To Dance With Chance
by Incey Dee
Summary: Casey Novak, a defeated prosecutor from New York meets Sherlock Holmes a celebrating best man who never got his dance at John's wedding. Together the two of them learn to take their chances.
1. Chapter 1 Shall We Dance?

**Chapter One: Shall We Dance?**

Casey Novak, censured prosecutor of the NYCPD Special Victims Unit, stepped into a mellow London bar. Her red hair was pulled over her left shoulder as her green eyes scanned the area with a small amount of appreciation. She had nearly ran out if adventures in London, but retuning to New York was out of the question. The wound was still too fresh to return to that city.

Since her reprimand for violating the Brady rules Casey had become a bit of a shut in. She rarely left her apartment in the three months she remained in the city, and when she did she always hid her red hair under a thick baseball cap and wore large shades to cover her green eyes. She dressed like a teenaged boy and with her slim figure it was an easy look to pull off. At first Casey thought she was going through extreme lengths to avoid the media, until she finally read what they had to say about her mishap in court.

The press hardly needed an interview with Casey to ruin her image, their assumptions had done the job for them. All the papers wrote all about Casey's lie in court, possible disablement, suspension, or whatever they could think of to sell the papers. Casey knew that even if she did sit down to talk with the papers, there was nothing she could say to clear their damage. Nothing she could say while she was censured. So she left.

Casey came to London with the intent of spending time with her cousin, but Bridget hardly left her room except to eat, or report to her news station. Bridget was consumed with her work. Casey could not blame her, she would have been the same way had anyone visited her when she was working, especially when she was working. There was never an off day in the SUV, Casey never wished for one, but now she did not have a choice.

With a deep sigh the redhead pulled herself from her thoughts and fully entered the bar. She was startled when a woman rushed her direction. Casey side-stepped the flustered brunette who attempted to rushed pass her, the woman upset and near tears.

"Miss, is everything alright" Casey caught the woman's sleeve and the woman rudely brushed her off gave her a nasty look then continued out of the bar. With fleeting blink to the woman Casey shook her head. Had she missed her job that much to feel the need to rescue every woman in distress? Casey glanced at the newly vacant seat and made her way toward it. With a resigned sigh she sat down and tossed her hair over her shoulders. In her peripheral vision she caught the sight of a pair of piercing eyes on her.

"Do you smoke?" The man's deep voice lulled her. Casey had to blink several times to register that he had asked a question.

"I was under the impression that smoking was not allowed in London bars." Casey said.

"That was not my question." He quipped.

Casey's eyes narrowed. "That's my answer." She snapped then motioned for the bartender.

"Tourist..." The man sighed. Casey turned to him again as he began to speak in rushed even tones, his baritone voice velvety coating each word. "American, first time in London, not counting casual visits from youth, you're here alone, traveled alone, I would even say you reside alone but you smell like cigarettes except you do not smoke. Visiting family, but this is not a vacation. You are unemployed and it kills you doesn't it."

Casey exhaled and pressed her lips in a thin line. "Is that why you think I smoke?" she asked after a while.

"No I told you before you do not smoke, weren't you listening?" His lovely voice rolled.

"Oh yes I'm listening, how do I know you again? You seem to know a lot about me." Casey snapped irritated then stopped herself and considered, how did he know all these things? Suddenly she became suspicious "How do you know all this what do you want?"

"A cigarette smoker beside me would be marvelous."

"Don't play games with me who are you, what do you want and who sent you?"

"My my, aren't we paranoid." His low voice rumbled as his eyes lit up then in the same rushed tones as before he began to verbally deconstruct her. "Could it be you're on the run, deal gone wrong? Escape to London where they can't find you... no, no that that seems too low for you, there's some moral about you. You are not just some business clerk who stole money and tried to escape... You're too suspicious, with a wariness for a criminal mind. You must be in law enforcement, but you aren't some crooked cop, again too righteous. Someone should be after you, yes, someone very dangerous. You with your righteous trait added to your workaholic tendencies have made many enemies. Your job was your life, until they fired you that is, guess it never paid off. You must be very lonely without your draining job."

"Oh nice work." Casey clapped her hands mockingly "So what's it fly all the way to London for a few minutes on the front page? You journalist are pathetic. Well you found me now what? Write your story I'll even pose for your photo."

"I did not find you silly woman you found me, with no cigarettes in a smoking bar. Why would you come here if you did not smoke? Oh forgive me I forgot, tourist." He waved his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other.

"You are not sent from the papers?" Casey's hard expression softened somewhat.

"No" The man groaned irritated as he pressed his hands against his temples.

"Then how do you know all those things about me?"

"Easy" He paused then sighed dramatically "You checked your phone three times within the few minutes you walked into the door it's a habit, you berated yourself twice for it before you even began to walk completely in. You are either disappointed about a love affair or a job. Seeing as to how modest you attire is you are not here to find a rebound so it is work related. Everyone knows you are American, and it is quite obvious that you are lonely. And the fact that you are here alone indicates that you consider yourself comfortable enough in London to walk around alone, which must mean you have been here before and have roots in the city."

"What about-"

"Oh your moral, of course you would focused on that. You wanted to know why that woman left crying, it was me. Anything else?"

Casey opened her mouth to speak but he raised his hand.

"No, no, I need a smoker." He waved his hands again "Please vacate the seat for the next possible smoker"

"You are a detective."

"You almost figured that out all by yourself. I am a consulting detective."

"What? How does that even work?"

"How do I work? I just told you, I consult." He sigh irritated again.

Casey rolled her eyes he did have a point. "What is your name?"

"I am Sherlock Holmes and no I am not interested in being your rebound."

"You said I was not looking for one."

"Good."

"I'm Casey Novak" She offered her hand, he shook it unenthused.

"Charmed"

"What are you doing here tonight Mr. Holmes?"

"I am celebrating" Sherlock said in a false cheer and raised his glass "My best friend's marriage. Or funeral." He took a deep drink

"You don't believe in love."

"It doesn't matter what I believe, now does it" He muttered into his drink.

"Why don't you buy your own cigarettes?"

"I am abstaining, can't you tell?"

Casey was just about to ask how she was expected to know such a thing but calmed herself. It was too amusing speaking with him, or maybe she really was lonely, he was right about everything else. "Would you like to dance with me Mr. Holmes?" Casey asked and smiled when she noticed that she had surprised him with her question.

Sherlock was just about to land another retort but paused. He did miss out on his one opportunity at the reception, which had landed him here. One dance, with a complete stranger, really could not hurt. He nodded and almost smiled, Casey could not repress her own as they stood. She led him to the dance floor then turned and placed her hands on his shoulders and his on her slim waist.

Casey could not remember the last time she had allowed herself to indulge in the company of someone none work related. Even though her companion for the evening was an irritable arrogant Englishman she still felt a sense of calm, light enjoyment. As she was turned in the man's strong arms Casey wondered had working for SVU really deprived of a social life and could this life be more enjoyable than her job.

"Stop it" Sherlock's deep voice rumbled in his chest. "You're thinking, it's ruining my dance."

"I'm sorry" Casey smirked, "Didn't know you could hear my thoughts."

"Hardly, but it does not matter stay focused, as I do enjoy a good dance, and a good dance partner."

"I will try to think more quietly then." Casey quipped sarcastically.

"No don't, just dance."

"I promise I am not here for a rebound" Casey said after a pause with a smile.

Sherlock's gaze was over her shoulder.

"I haven't even the faintest interest in you."

"I would have guessed that one in your line of work would be more skilled in deceit. But there is that moral code of yours." Sherlock said. "Lawyers should not lie Ms. Novak, didn't you take an oath?" He felt Casey tense in his arms as he turned her.

"How did you-" again, Casey's suspicion rose as she assumed Sherlock knew more than he should about her especially with his comment about lying. Casey turned to leave but Sherlock held her close.

"Relax won't you. It was a shot in the dark." His hands ran over her arms and shoulders "Law enforcement, but clearly not a cop, your frame is much too frail for that." He ran his hands over Casey's shoulders then took one of her hands in his "And you've probably never held a gun in your life." Sherlock noted her softness even as she frowned at him.

"I have." Casey snapped.

"Practice for a 'fun' girls night out does not count."

"Then what does?" Casey snapped again but Sherlock seemed to have not hearted her as he continued their dance.

It was then that Casey was able to pay more attention to her dance partner. He was tall, slender with dark curly hair. He was still dressed in his tux, must have just came from the wedding from the looks of it. Her deductions were not nearly as through as his, but she was no detective. She's an ADA, well, she was. That thought hurt. Casey shook her head, she really was obsessed with her job. Casey wondered was it that obvious, or was he really just that good?

Casey frowned in her thoughts even as Sherlock leaned her back for a lovely dip. She restrained her gasp at his intense eyes hovering over her with his firm body pressed against hers, he was more muscular than she presumed. Sherlock retracted the dip the song ended and Casey nodded.

"This next song is slow too if you would like to keep going."

Sherlock did smile this time "Yes, I would." He said then spun Casey in his arms as they melted into the next song. His best friend was married and he had finally got his dance, Sherlock was content.

The pair had spent majority of the night in the lull of the evening. Casey felt like she as in a dream and Sherlock, was happy he had both his dance and well trained partner. He smiled as he released her and kissed her hands gently.

"Thank you for the lovely evening Mr. Holmes." Casey said softly "And I apologize for the rough start."

"You are quite welcome, and don't worry, I forgive you." Sherlock said. Casey's smile dropped and she narrowed her eyes but Sherlock seemed, oblivious. "It seems I did not need that smoker after all." He muttered to himself "It's been soon long since I danced it cleared my head maybe I should have tired this earlier, but John, oh John would never have allowed... Well just that once but that was just practice for the wedding... "

Casey nodded and Sherlock began to retreat into mutters. "Ok good night Mr. Holmes." Casey said again.

"Oh, you're still here. Good evening." Sherlock said then returned to his mutterings.

Casey exhaled and shook her head then turned, exited the bar and tried to flag down a taxi. She could be upset that her first wonderful evening in a long, long time was with a muttering self-obsessed, domineering Englishman, but he was charming, in his own little weird way. How did he deconstruct her life so fast? He had some skill. "That's a nice party trick you have there Sherlock." Casey sighed to herself.

"Thank you." Sherlock said from beside her and Casey jumped out of her skin. "You are referring to my smooth dancing am I right? Or maybe my excellent skills of deduction, yes probably that, right?" Sherlock flagged a cab then opened the door for Casey "Shall we share?"

Casey was just about to reject, but seeing as to how she could never seem to flag one down on her own, she decided against it and climb in. Sherlock climbed in after her settled himself then shut the door. After a moment of silence he looked at her then smiled his full sculpted lips barley showing his teeth.

"You have to tell him where you're going dear." Sherlock said in a matter of fact tone then Casey spoke her address though clenched teeth. Again, seeming oblivious to Casey's irritation Sherlock spoke "I rather liked dancing with you Ms. Novak would you be interested in doing it again?"

"No rebounds remember." Casey said.

"Yes I know and this is not that. This is purely for my own personal gain and enjoyment. It clears my head and helps me think clearer than nicotine." Sherlock said then leaned in as if the last part was a secret "And it was a little enjoyable as well." He said in a whisper. Casey could not help but crack a smile.

"I'll think about it." She said and Sherlock continued to smile.

"Great then I will text tomorrow give me your phone." Sherlock lifted his hand expectantly but Casey's eyes narrowed.

"No, you will not." Casey snapped.

"Why not?" Sherlock asked innocently enough then in continued to speak in his rushed tones. "You're obviously not doing anything. No job and probably no work visa and getting paid under the table for side jobs is just far too beneath you not to mention an insult to your morals, such an honest type you are. You could spend the day touring the city, running the parks or biking to random places but you have already done that haven't you and it makes you feel even more alone when you've finished. So now all you have left to do is to spend time with your relative, probably female who is always at work, and the cat." Sherlock finished in a deadpanned "I noticed the cat hairs on your boots" He said as Casey glared at him with her thin lips held tightly.

"You have to be the most infuriating person I have ever had the misfortune to meet, and I prosecute murders and sex offenders so that's saying something." Casey's calm near raspy voice said "Correct, I don't have many alternatives, but I would rather continue with my lonely existence as you so clearly pointed out, or be stuck in a cab with one of those psychopaths than spend any more time with a lonely, self-obsessed, show-off who feeds of making people feel less than superior than himself to overcompensate for his own miserable existence." Casey snapped "Driver you can stop right here, I'll walk the rest of the block."

"No she won't" Sherlock affirmed the driver then returned his attention to Casey "You're a prosecutor, I knew it. Of course. Murder cases you say? Kidnappings, serial killers, the occasional drug bust?" Sherlock's eyes lit up as he leered over Casey. She shrunk back from his increasing proximity but affirmed her tasks with a nod. Then Sherlock smiled. "Perfect." He sounded triumphant.

"Please pull the car over now." Casey said.

"Don't" Sherlock affirmed the cabby once more then turned back to Casey "You are perfect." He said and noted Casey's defensiveness as she slipped her hand into her bag in what she thought was a stealthy manner. "My partner just got himself married with a baby on the way. Now this is all very good for him and I am delighted, really I am, but it puts me in a compromising position, sometimes he will not be there and I like to have someone near to help spark my genius, it helps if they have medical skills or extreme exposure to criminal activity. With your expertise in prosecuting these criminal minds, you could be a well-off replacement. Would you like to come along? In his place when he cannot be there?"

Casey made a face and prepared her decline but was distracted when Sherlock slipped her cellphone from her pocket and began to enter his number.

"Oh let's not pretend like you don't miss it." His voice was low, and almost a purr "The rush the chase, the feeling of putting someone behind bars and making them pay for what they have done, giving them all they deserve. The only difference is now, now you will be on the front lines. No more wondering if the detectives got it right no more what ifs, no now, now you will be in charge, the first one there. You have the opportunity to make sure every scrap of evidence is gleamed, untainted and have the pleasure of catching the culprits before they act again."

"I feel like I am being propositioned by the devil."

"No my dear, the devil is out there, setting the board, waiting for us to start the game. Will you play?"

"I will think about it." Casey said firmly and Sherlock groaned as a petulant expression crossed his face.

The cab parked. "This is my stop" Casey said then passed her money to the driver but Sherlock halted the process with another reprimand to the cabby. "Thank you" Casey said. She glanced at Sherlock who still loomed over her. He placed her phone in her waiting hands and slipped out the cab and ushered Casey out.

"Thanks again Mr. Holmes." Casey said "I had a great evening."

"As you said before." Sherlock escorted her to her door then turn to leave "Remember my offer Ms. Novak." Then he climbed into the cab. Casey shook her head then turned into the house.

Casey leaned against the door of her cousin's flat and tried to shake the offer away. It had been a good evening with a spoiled Englishman. She tried to convince herself that that was all she wanted to take away from it, but she could not shake it. Casey slumped from the door and began to make her way to the bathroom but stopped at her cousin's quick descend down the stars.

"Going away for a few days Case, got a big story coming up It'll redeem me from last week's failure I'm sure." Bridget said

Casey nodded, 'everyone needs redemption.' Casey thought to herself 'A sense of accomplishment... a chase...'

"You alright?" Bridget asked

Casey nodded again. "I'm fine, how many days?"

"Not sure yet, but don't worry, I'll keep in touch. Please take care of Mr. Whiskers while I'm gone." With that the owner of the flat walked out in the middle of the night, and jumped into her car then drove off.

Casey groaned as the tabby cat rubbed his face against her leg. She decided that she disliked Sherlock Holmes, she didn't even know the man well enough, but she hated it that he was right. With one long groan Casey gave into her curiosity and made her way to her laptop. Even though she hated to admit it, she was the slightest bit interested in the only consulting detective she had ever met.

**This story could be considered a cross-over, but not really I just took SVU's Casey Novak and put her in London. This fiction excludes the last episode of Season Three of Sherlock.**  
><strong>I don't own Sherlock or SVU.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2: Connection

**Chapter Two: To Initiate Connection**

Sherlock Holmes was bored. His faithful companion, John had gone off on sex holiday, and apparently was enjoying himself judging from his blog updates. Business was slow, the cases were dull, and there was no store that would sell him cigarettes, Sherlock Holmes was bored. That was never good, he pressed his nicotine pacts, it was never good.

He brooded in his chair, his gaze forward with his chin resting on his upraised hands. His morning tea was cold beside him, abandoned. Sherlock was bored.

Maybe John's room needed some remolding. John was gone after all. There was no need to preserve his room the way it was. Sherlock stood from his chair as all the lovely ideas surfaced in his head. He would remodel. The consulting detective walked out of his sitting room. Gracefully he took his revolver in hand, he would remodel everything!

Mrs. Hudson nearly dropped her tea set when she heard the shots and the young lady at the door went pale.

"Oh no He's at it again!" Mrs. Hudson screamed then stormed up to Sherlock's flat and began to bang on the door. "Sherlock! You stop that right now! I will take this out of your deposit!" There were more shots and Mrs. Hudson prepared herself to properly barge into the room.

A concerned expression crossed Casey's face "Is he alright?"

"That depends on your definition dear, but sometimes he can be. Don't you worry if your case is good enough he'll stop." Mrs. Hudson said then proceeded to the door "Sherlock! I'm coming in!" She yelled and Casey stepped lightly beside her.

"Yes, yes Mrs. Hudson I have already had my tea." Sherlock's voice could be heard as he emerged from John's former bed room, gun still in hand.

"You have a case." His landlady said.

"Well let's hope it isn't dull." Sherlock motioned vaguely with the revolver. "Just, sit it over there."

"It's good to see you again Mr. Holmes." Casey said and noticed his flinch in recognition then Sherlock turned to her.

"Ms. Novak." He lowered the gun and almost smiled.

"I looked you up online, found your site, and the blog, it's entertaining." Casey made a face.

"Yes, and?" Casey tried not to feel uncomfortable from the way Sherlock's fingers twitched on the gun in his grasp.

"And, I decided that occasionally being Mr. Watson's' replacement might not be half bad. That is if you're still interested."

"Yes I am."

"Good then, you can call me Casey, I don't know how informal it is in England to use first names, but I have one, and I don't mind."

"Neither do I."

"Good, now can we get to work?"

The corners of Sherlock's lips turned up and he smiled. "Of course" He said then they drooped "Find me a case." Sherlock placed his gun down, opened his laptop, turned it to Casey then sat in his chair opposite to it. Casey took the seat opposite to him and began to read the list.

"What about the missing Liberians from-"

"No"

"The cyber stalker at-"

"Dull."

"The-"

"No, no, no." Sherlock snapped.

"We have been at this all day." Casey's voice was low and threatening "You have rejected every case on this board simply because it did not sound 'challenging' enough for you. Get over your ego and pick one before your sudden absence becomes the next entry."

"Well it would not make much sense to post it there then would it? I can't solve my own death," Sherlock quipped then muttered at Casey's glare "although I can fake it pretty well."

"Pick a case, and not one about gnomes. There are people's lives on the line." Casey snapped and Sherlock sighed.

"You make dull things sound so serious." Sherlock stood and walked over to her chair. "I'd dislike it if it was a little more convincing." He stood behind her and peered over at her screen. "There that one." He pointed.

"Did you even read it?"

"What does it matter, lives on the line right?" Sherlock turned to pluck at his violin and as Casey opened the email. Sherlock lifted his bow as she scanned the contents and not more than a moment afterward was meet with the image of Detective Inspector Lestrade entering the flat.

"Sherlock, we've found another one, same marks, same method, I think we have a pattern." Lestrade said.

"Excellent." Sherlock put down his bow then turned to Casey and closed the laptop. "Are you ready Ms. Novak? We have a crime scene to investigate." Sherlock turned into the room and began to pull his large coat over his shoulders. Casey stood to begin the same.

Casey was dressed a simple black pants suit, fitting for an former prosecutor. Even though she was censured for her violation of American courtroom laws, it was obvious that Casey still clung to her previous life as prosecutor. Sherlock had read up on her as well, he knew all about her violation, possible suspension and more importantly her seventy-one percent success rate in her cases. She was smart, she could keep cool under pressure, but even one so great fell to human error. Casey had gotten too involved and lost focus. She let her passion overwhelm her, and in desperation to win one single case she risked her career, her reputation and her success rate. Sherlock glanced over the red-head as he tied his scarf around his neck. Casey Novak was living proof of the damage becoming too involved could cause.

"So, is it really this easy, just like that?" Casey asked finally able to speak in the comforts of the cab.

"Just like what?" Sherlock stared straight ahead.

"Just like that, we are going to be allowed to access a police investigation? We are both civilians."

"I am no amateur Ms. Novak."

"Yes but you also do not have a badge or anything."

"A badge does not affirm competence Ms. Novak."

"Yes but how does your work hold up in court? How could the defense just let this huge gap slide like that?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." Sherlock smirked to himself as the cab approached the flat of their investigation. "Come Casey, and please leave your silly courtroom inquiries in the cab." Sherlock held out his arm and Casey took it as she entered her first crime scene in London.

The former prosecutor shook her head as she approached the victim. Casey had been near crime scenes before but never this close, Elliot and Olivia were always near, to keep her away. To be this close, without them over her shoulder was exciting. Casey would have felt ashamed at her excitement at such a morbid thing, if Sherlock did not outdo her. The man was bubbling with excitement, it radiated off of him as strolled confidently before her with his long coat swishing in his wake. There was even a light smile on his face as he turned to her, it was unnerving but Casey had read enough on him to know that he was a professional. Even if he did not act like it.

The scene before them was one which Casey would have normally only saw in pictures with notes from forensics, and her detectives. But this was different, there before her lay her case. The woman before her dressed in business attire lay dead, her eyes were wide but the rest of her face seemed at rest. Then Casey noticed something that had she not worked on Special Victims Unit, would have made her stomach churn at the sight of the woman's feet. They were missing her toes.

"Gleaned" Sherlock's deep voice broke Casey out of her observation. "Just like the other victims." Sherlock walked around the woman "Late twenties, business attire, clean background just like the other ones, Ms. Novak if you may." Sherlock stepped nearer the corpse and beckoned Casey to do the same. "What do you supposed happened here? How do you suppose they did it?"

"Stalked, lured here by someone who had issues with feet. Does this match anyone in the area's work?"

"That does not answer my question Ms. Novak. It is obvious that the suspect was no stranger, my question is how did he do it?" Sherlock noted Casey's confused expression then motioned to the clues in the room "There was no forced entry, and it even appears as if she were entertaining a guest, so it was someone personal. But how did she die? What killed her Casey?"

"She took a really hard shot in the head." Casey noted that there was no blood "Or she was suffocated."

"Yes…" Sherlock mused to himself.

Assuming she was on the right path Casey continued to speak. " Or she could have died from blood loss, from her foot."

"No, no those were taken after she was dead." Sherlock turned with a sigh at Casey's crossed expression "Do you see how evenly the cuts are, if she were alive when they happened don't you think they would have been a bit messier? It is an obvious observation Ms. Novak."

Casey stood and gave resigned shrug "I guess I just suck." She said sarcastically. Sherlock continued to move over the body.

"You don't suck," Sherlock plucked the necklace from the woman's neck and flicked it open "You have a seventy-one percent success rate, perfectly capable of producing credible deductions, and proving them." Sherlock snapped the locket shut and returned it then noted Casey's stare. "I looked you up as well Ms. Novak, and while I no comment on the circumstances of your departure from your climbing success, I do believe you could use the practical skills of actually finding the evidence first hand. Then maybe you could avoid breaking any more silly courtroom laws."

Casey pressed her lips together and calmed her retort. She knew the media wrote on her incident event though she was not present for an interview, but she did not expect the news to still be in circulation. She wanted to explain to vindicate herself but she hadn't the heart. Instead Casey decided to let the moment pass until she noticed the air of expatiation in the air and found Sherlock's gaze upon her. He wanted an explanation, everyone did, why would a high ranking prosecutor lie to the court and risk her career? It was the question of questions that Casey refused to answer, but if she told Sherlock could she vindicate herself to him?

"I did what I did, to save a very good detective from loosing his badge." Casey said simply. Sherlock nodded.

"Time's up, tell me what you got." Lestrade entered the room and Sherlock lifted himself from the woman.

"Nothing." Sherlock said simply, Lestrade gave him a look. Sherlock sighed "She's a banker, only a few months in the business and many other irrelevant details. She does not appear to have a connection with the other two victims and she was not sexually assaulted, it was consensual the locket on her neck is new you may want to call the man inside in for questioning. Let him know that his lover is dead. Release to me the information on the other two and I will give you a lead."

"Ok." Lestrade nodded as Sherlock pulled off his gloves and prepared his outerwear "We'll have that to you as soon as we can."

"Tonight would be marvelous. See you then. Come now Ms. Novak." Sherlock called. Casey stepped out of her remorse, and followed him.

Casey turned in her bed restless. She had fought hard to go to sleep only to be awoken once again. She sat up and glanced at her clock, it was 12:00 AM, why was she awake? Viewing the crime scene could not be the reason, she had seen much more gory things in New York, but never that close up. Casey knew she was not frightened, she was excited, she was working on the other end, getting a taste of what Olivia did every day. The former prosecutor stifled a smile as she thought of her detectives, she wondered what they would think if they knew what she was up to in London. Then the light from her mobil phone flashed again, and Casey remembered the reason she had woken up this time. With blurry eyes she scanned her texts.

"Baker Street come quickly" It was from Sherlock followed by two more of the same manner and the last "Very important Casey."

Without another word Casey sprung from her bed and began to dress herself. She could hardly keep the smile off her face. She was really getting a taste of Olivia's life, it was exhilarating. Without thinking much Casey pulled on a black skirt with a red sleeveless top and covered it with her suit jacket. When she went to pull on her pumps then she questioned her attire. It was not very practical, she had never seen Olivia wear skirts, or heels for that matter, but Casey did not have the time to browse her wardrobe. Instead she pulled on a flatter pair of shoes then proceeded out of the flat as quickly as she could.

When Casey stepped into 221B she found Sherlock pacing it seemed, but on further observation it appeared as if he were in a waltz. His gaze turned on her as Casey entered and a long arm reached for her.

"Ms. Novak, happy you could join me." Sherlock pulled Casey into his waltz as she gave him a scrutinizing stare.

"You woke me up, at twelve in the morning, for this?" Casey's low voice matched her narrowed eyes.

"No of course not, I sent that text at eleven, I had hoped you would be here sooner. We have lost much time." Sherlock spun Casey in his arms then placed her back down and turned to his coat closet. "This room is a bit cluttered, shall we go out?"

Casey stood still for a moment as she calmed herself. She could fight, she could argue call him self-centered, inconsiderate, pompous or any other factual insults that he would probably ignore or agree with. She could go home, go back to sleep, or she could just go with it. The ladder won, it was not like she had much to do anyway. Casey tightened her coat around her frame then walked out of the flat with Sherlock behind her as she wondered what kind of dance place he thought would be open at 12:45 A.M.

The music was so loud Casey could mistake the beat as her own heart's and she and Sherlock had hardly walked into the dance club.

"Is this your idea of space?" Casey yelled to be heard over the beat. Sherlock shrugged then simply began to remove Casey's coat.

"Is this your idea of club wear?" Sherlock scanned her suit set disapprovingly. "And you're from New York, must have been a shut in."

"Excuse me, I did not know we were going to a club, I thought we actually had something productive to do." Casey snapped and lifted her arms as Sherlock removed her suit jacket as well.

"Must have been a social outcast, that job really did damage your social life didn't it."

"Your attire isn't exactly club wear either Sherlock." Casey snapped. Sherlock was in his normal dark suit with his well pressed white shirt.

"This will do" Sherlock paid Casey's comment no mind as he fluffed her hair then continued to speak. "Your name is Laura," He said "You attended a ballet school here when you were younger before your parents moved to America. You did not have many friends and you have not been in touch with them since you left. You are here on a random trip and wanted to reconnect with..."

"Wait, what?" Casey's red brows frowned.

"You are a natural redhead am I correct?"

"Yes, what does that have to do with anything?"

"It has been dyed a number of times but I though as much. Laura is a red head as well."

"Why does that matter and who is Laura?"

"You are weren't you listening?"

"Sherlock, please. What is going on."

"For the past few hours I have been posing as Laura in an online conversation with one of the former students of that ballet school and I scheduled a meeting here. This is your role tonight Casey. To connect with her and get as much information as you can."

"What does this have to do with anything? None of the victims were dancers."

"Upon closer inspection of our victims I found only one connection, it was small but sound enough to investigate. All of them attended the same dance school when they were younger even though none of them are actually dancers today, I cannot ignore this connection. Kathy is the name of the woman you are going to meet tonight, she may be a well of information but I was only able to get so much out of her online. You are an attorney Casey." Sherlock pulled a strand of hair behind Casey's ear "Question her, smoke her out, see what you can get. I have upmost faith in you Casey, try not to disappointment. She is the blond dancer resting by the bar." Sherlock said then slipped away as Casey turned to her first role as an undercover detective.

Casey tried to ignore her nerves as she sat beside the blond and smiled. "Kathy?" She said and the blond turned.

"Laura! I didn't think you would show! I'm so happy I get to see you come here." Kathy pulled Casey into a tight hug and Casey noted she smelled like smoke.

"So this is where you, work?" Casey asked and Kathy smirked.

"How'd you guess?" Kathy winked "I always liked to dance, and being an exotic dancer pays a lot more than you would expect, if you're good at it that is. And I always was the best..." It was then that Casey took note of Kathy's clothing, there was hardly any but Kathy was perfectly fine with that. Casey felt her phone vibrate then quickly glanced at it.

"What did she say about the murders?" It was Sherlock. Casey rolled her eyes of course she was not going to come right out and ask that first, did he know anything about social skills.

"Is that the fiancé? Tell him to go away, its girl's night." Kathy said with a laugh then took Casey's hand. "Do you still dance Laura? Or did you give that up when you went to America?"

"I haven't in a while." Casey put her phone away after reading 'be quick' from Sherlock then she focused her attention on Kathy. "I don't think I want to dance anymore, at least not in London. Haven't you heard of what happened to Ellen, Silvia, and Megan? Three of our peers, murdered with their toes severed. They say the murder always took the large toe but left the rest there, detached."

"I told you I didn't want to talk about that." Kathy said clearly disturbed. "It's not decent to dwell on things we can do anything about."

"Why can't we do anything about it?"

"Because we can't!" Kathy snapped then settled herself down. She pulled a cigarette and lit it. "They were all killed violently with their feet mutilated, their feet Laura! What does that remind you of?"

Casey made a face to appear as if she were thinking but Kathy sighed impatiently.

"You could not possibly have forgotten, the winter performance of our last year?"

Casey urged her on.

"I guess the rumors were true that you were not as involved in as the others. When Margaret Bolden slipped and nearly ruined her dancing career due to a problem with her toe pads, it was no accident as we know. All three of those girls deserved what they got, and I am surprised it took them this long for it to happen."

"So could this be Margaret doing?"

Kathy frowned "Margaret died three months ago. I can't believe you didn't read about this."

Casey's eyes widened just as her phone buzzed again. 'Time to go.' it read and she complied. "I have to go Kathy I'm sorry the fiancé."

"What? You promised me a dance." Kathy pulled at Casey's hands but she slipped away.

"Maybe next time I promise, keep in touch." Casey slipped into the crowd and found Sherlock then they left without another word.

"Margaret Bolden it says here she was set for Paris. After releasing her autobiography, she was found dead in her apartment. It was a confirmed suicide." Casey sighed as she scanned the news article before her. She peeked back at Sherlock who sat in his chair his face rested on his upraised hands. Margaret would have been the perfect suspect, but she was dead. Her book had sold millions and no doubt it mentioned the prank pulled by the three girls, but who was their suspect now? "Now what?" Casey asked and it appeared as if Sherlock had not heard her. They sat in silence long pass the comfortable limit then Casey stood.

"Well, I am going to go home and back to sleep, if you find anything else out, please wait till daylight to contact me." Casey pulled on her outerwear "Good night Mr. Holmes." She stepped out of the small flat without another word as Sherlock continued to sit unmoving in thought.

Sherlock heard the door close then blinked twice "Well Laura, now we visit the grieving family." He turned to his laptop and began his search.

**A/N: This is my first Sherlock fanfiction. While it is intended to be romance, I do want to try and write a case or two out as well, but if that really slows the story down then let me know. The last thing I want is for the cases to become a distraction and the romance never happen. **

**Reviews make stories better so, feel free to leave one. **


	3. Chapter 3 Dancer's Feet

**Chapter Three: Dancer's Feet**

Sherlock rang the doorbell then glanced at Casey "We cannot stay long or she may see though our act." He said and Casey nodded "We have an appointment in one hour, mention that when we have gathered all we need."

"Mrs. Bolden thank you for seeing us." Casey said as she and Sherlock took their seats in the sitting room of the deceased dancer's mother. "This is Eric, my fiancé."

"And the reason for your return to London." Sherlock took Casey's hand and flashed a charming smile. It was contagious Casey could not help but to give him the smallest one back.

"When I heard about Margaret, I could not come right away, but I had to make sure I saw you the moment I did return to London. I am sorry for your lost." Casey said.

"Thank you dear, I had just come from visiting her grave today, the wound is still very fresh." Mrs. Bolden a who appeared hardly as elderly as her age leaned elegantly back in her chair. "I was very distraught with the loss of my only daughter, but I suppose I can take some joy in the fact that Christine, whom I have also trained, has been the proper understudy. Taking all of my daughter's roles and carrying them out with more than enough grace." Mrs. Bolden's tone was tight and Casey took note of it.

"I have not had much communication with Christine over the years either. Apparently they became really close?"

"Oh yes, dreadfully close, Christine could hardly stand the funeral she was almost more devastated than I." Mrs. Bolden said.

"Which is strange considering that they were once enemies, according to Margaret's book that is." Sherlock added and Casey made a mental note to later talk to him about his social skills, or lack thereof.

"Oh that book..." Mrs. Bolden sighed "Everyone knows everything from that book!"

"We only recently considered Ms. Margaret when I happen to come upon her book and mention it to Laura." Sherlock sounded apologetic but Casey did not consider that an improvement. She shut her thoughts out to in character and support her outspoken partner.

"I attempted to contact Margaret afterward, and I found out the sad news. It was devastating, do you have any ideas why she might have done it?" Casey could not help but sound like a prosecutor as she questioned the woman before her, but she had her suspicions.

In Margaret's own book she had mentioned how her mother had always been on her back about her career. Mrs. Bolden wanted her daughter to be the best. The book even mentioned how disappointed Mrs. Bolden was with her daughter when she fell during the prank pulled on Margaret during the final performance Kathy had informed Casey of, as if it were entirely Margaret's fault.

Even though Margaret was severely injured afterwards, her mother still pressed her to practice through the pain. Just reading the pages, it was evident that the relationship between Margaret and her mother was stressed. Mrs. Bolden still might have had a very controlling role in Margaret's life, thus making her feel helpless enough to end it.

"My daughter, was always stubborn, and spoiled." Mrs. Bolden said tightly. "I told her to aim for Paris and leave London completely behind, she was almost there. Then she befriended her should be rival, and made her victory less sweet when Christine 'honorably' decided to 'let' Margaret take the spotlight." The former dancer rolled her eyes. "I even told Margaret not to publish that book, but of course, she did which added pressure from the media and unwanted press. Any ideas why she did this? Well, I do not know, but my therapist as affirmed that it was not to spite me." Mrs. Bolden caught her breath then blinked form her statement and returned her attention to the pair. She spoke softly "I grieve my daughter's death, every day. And while I was upset she published that book, at least I have a part of her to go to when I feel like she is missing."

"Thank you Mrs. Bolden, I feel the same way." Casey placed a hand on Mrs. Bolden's lap, then returned them to Sherlocks.

"You certainly have grown into a lovely woman Laura, it was a shame when your parents stole you off to America, I had always believed you would be my daughter's only competition."

"Well I gave up dancing after I got to the states, my parents found it impractical." Casey said and despite the disapproving look on Mrs. Bolden's face she took Sherlock's brush against her wrist as a note that her statement was well aimed.

Mrs. Bolden was a instructor at the ballet school. Casey tried to stay consistent with the details Sherlock had collected from Kathy and other peers of Margaret. They could not afford to slip up, which is why she assumed Sherlock made sure he was able to accompany her during the visit.

"Your parents were always against the art." Mrs. Bolden leaned back in her chair "I was surprised they even let you attend the final performance." Mrs. Bolden pressed her thin lips tightly "I apologize if the mishap with my daughter cemented their animosity."

"Oh don't worry, and we know that was not her fault, from her book." Casey said

"And you my dear Laura, was surprisingly not mentioned at all." Sherlock added. Both Mrs. Bolden and Casey rose an eyebrow at this. "On page one-hundred-sixty-tree Margaret goes into detail about her 'bullying' in the early part of her career due to pressure from her mother and envy from her peers. She then goes on to explaining in detail the events of the prank certain dancers pulled on her which nearly ruined her young career. She mentioned the oppressors by first name but neglected my Laura who hatched the whole scheme, but we are somewhat repentant now."

"Somewhat?" Casey could not help question Sherlock's untraceable motives then had to surprises a giggle from the light pressure against her captured wrist.

"I say somewhat dear because you were laughing when you explained it to me, not but a few days ago. Apparently Margaret did not even know you were the one behind it all so you were not mentioned at all."

Casey's eyes grew wide, Sherlock was throwing her under the bus and just then he pressed against her wrist one more time and the giggle did escape. Casey noticed the murderous glare form Mrs. Bolden.

"It seems like we have overstayed our welcome dear." Sherlock stood and pulled Casey along with him. "Forgive us Mrs. Bolden we have an appointment with a florist that we cannot afford to miss."

"Florist?" Casey asked.

"Yes dear, the wedding." Sherlock said then gave Mrs. Bolden an apologetic farewell and escorted Casey out of the flat.

"What was that?" Casey snapped as soon as she and Sherlock were in the cab "You threw me under the bus!"

"I threw Laura under the bus." Sherlock correct "And I knew I could trust you to stay calm during it. Things were going too well, and at that rate I would have never been able to set up the proper bait." Sherlock said simply.

"Bait?" Casey's eyebrows rose.

"Look out your window, see that cab, we are being followed."

"You think Mrs. Bolden did it?"

"I think she is involved. A woman like that does not take rejection well, and her daughter's suicide was just that. Because she cannot take it out on the daughter, why not take it out on the ones who she believes turned her daughter against her?"

"But why is she following us?" Casey asked then shook her head "You set me up."

"Bait Laura, Bait." Sherlock said as the cab stopped and Casey scanned the place they had arrived to.

"Are we really going to look at flowers?"

"Why of course, we have an appointment." Sherlock held the door open and took Casey's hand as she stepped out.

Casey looked over her shoulders once more. Sherlock said he would be close by if anything were to happen, but she still she was paranoid. After viewing all the flowers and arrangements for their pretend wedding Casey was told that she would have to travel alone to draw out the murderer if it was Mrs. Bolden as they suspected. Casey would have to be alone to be the proper bait and lure the attacker. In all the attacks there was no sign of struggling so the attacker was able to make the victim feel comfortable enough with them before they were killed. The suspect would want few people to notice that they were together before the possible assault.

Casey walked into a near coffee shop and took a seat close to the windows. She scanned the room. She did not feel like she was being followed at all, but that did not stop her paranoia. Out of the comer of her eyes she spotted a brunette. Casey did not know why she looked so familiar but she could not help but stare. Then it hit her, she remembered photos of Margaret in the papers and photos of her understudy and more frequently the photos from the funeral of a devastated Christine. Just when Casey had realized who the woman was, Mrs. Bolden walked in and sat before Christine.

"Sherlock, I think she has an accomplice." Casey text as she watched the pair "Christine is here." Casey watched the pair speak quietly but their body language displayed that they were in disagreement with each other until finally Mrs. Bolden stood then exited the shop in a fluff. Christine lingered for a moment with her head in her palms. With no response from Sherlock, Casey debated her next option. Should she follow Mrs. Bolden, or use her false identity to talk to Christine. Casey blinked as the thoughts came to her in a rush she stood then left the shop in haste.

"Christine was a part of that clique that terrified Margaret, they become friends, best friends, Margaret publishes this book and then the pressure must have started all over again from the bad image she gave those girls who were involved." Casey said shocked that she had Sherlock's full attention "Next thing you know Margaret shows up dead, who better to feel the guilt of the situation than the one who had recently repented? Christine must be doing these things to cure some sort of guilt that lingers from what she did to Margaret all those years ago. You checked everyone mentioned in that book, and you've read every page, Christine does have a history of violent behavior."

"Toes." Sherlock said after a moment and earned Casey's stare "Where would the murder keep them?" Casey blinked several times took a deep breath and began to question why she even bothered but Sherlock continued to speak "On each victim the largest toe was missing which corresponds to the damage they did to Margaret. If Christine is involved, it mY not as intimately as we may believe, if she does not have the items from the other victims."

Casey nodded "Now what?"

"Now we find them." Sherlock turned to flag a cab.

"This is it," Sherlock said as he scanned the flat. "Christine lives on the second floor. I will go in and..."

"Excuse me what?" Casey snapped. She could handle going under cover to get information, she could even handle taking advantage of a grieving mother by pretending to be an old friend of her daughter, but breaking in a suspect's home, illegally collecting evidence that a judge might throw out even if the suspect was guilty was the last straw. "We can't just barge into someone's home looking for evidence without a warrant." Sherlock rolled his eyes but Casey continued "We aren't even real detectives, if we get caught it could be considered burglary and any evidence we collect is..."

"Oh will you let it go already?" Sherlock sighed "You are no longer an A.D.A. Casey and hardly a detective. You are no longer in charge of investigations especially here in London. If you want to catch the criminal you have to play by our rules. Your success rate is great, but it is not needed here."

"Then what is needed here? That is who I am."

"Oh you are many things Casey" Sherlock said then sighed "But right now I need you to be a look out. Alert me if anyone attempts to come in." Sherlock turned to the window.

"What? No-" Casey began her protest again but Sherlock had already began his climb. "Come back here."

"Ms. Novak I need you to look out and distract our suspect please do not disappoint me."

"Wait, but how?" Casey sighed defeated finally giving into Sherlock's plan.

"Oh, you'll figure it out." Sherlock said once more then disappeared into the flat.

Casey stood outside of Christine's flat and attempted to calm her nerves. She had no idea what she would do if Christine did show up, or worst if Mrs. Bolden decided to pay her a visit. How could she explain herself, or Sherlock's presence inside?

Casey spotted a woman in the corner of her eyes and silently cursed. Time was up. Christine made her way toward her apartment and Casey panicked. She stood still as Christine reached her door then finally called out to her.

"Christine? Christine Bradford?" Casey smiled after gaining Christine's attention. "I am Laura, I've been visiting a few friends now that I am back in London, I looked you up hoped we could grab a coffee or something."

"Laura?" Christine's brows frowned with recognition. "Oh, and you visited Mrs. Bolden today, she told me you might stop by. What did you do to her? You really shook her up."

"Oh it was not me, it was my Fiancé," Casey said "He has no social skills. And does not understand the proper moment to say certain things, or not say them. Actually he has quite a few problems."

Christine laughed softly and Casey smiled back.

"Coffee?" Casey asked.

"Just a moment, I would rather like to put all this away first." Christine motioned to her dance bag over her shoulder.

"Oh don't worry about that, I can carry it." Casey said smoothly but then there was a rustle in the house followed by the sound of glass breaking. She cursed Sherlock's discretion as Christine turned to her door and unlocked it quickly then ran in with Casey behind her. There was a gun shot and Casey crouched low "Keep your head down." Casey pushed Christine behind her as they crept into the area the shot was heard.

Sherlock stood before a shaky Mrs. Bolden who firmly held her gun but Sherlock looked unfazed. "So it was her." Casey said to herself as she noted the scene before her.

"Well this is hardly the treatment a grieving friend should receive." His low voice cooed as he took another step forward but was stilled by Mrs. Bolden's tightening her grip of her gun. "I take it you're upset because we did not send you a wedding invitation then? Don't worry, I'm sure Laura will be delighted to see you there."

"You are a farce, both you and that woman!" Mrs. Bolden said "Laura never liked Margaret, they were bitter enemies. She threatened to sue my daughter if she even mentioned her name in her book. I knew she planned the whole thing, the humiliation. After I get Christine, that talentless slob who took my daughter's place, I'll get Laura as well! Then my daughter can finally rest in peace."

"Yes but, what role do I play in this?" Sherlock asked "Surly Laura's fiancé did nothing to harm your starlet?"

"I'm not going to let you go after everything I just told you, nice try."

"No, no of course not, but maybe you could just enlighten me. Where did you keep them?"

"Keep what?"

"The large toe of each dancer you killed it's driving me insane. I know you have them on you today as I caught you trying to plant them in Christine's home, but where did you keep them? I snooped around your house thoroughly when I went to the loo and I could not find them anywhere."

Mrs. Bolden gave a confident smile. "I visit my daughter every time there is a kill, and I always leave something in her flower pot." she said.

"Of course, why didn't I think of that?" Sherlock said to himself. "Very clever Mrs. Bolden."

"Thank you Eric."

"Call me Sherlock."

"What?" Mrs. Bolden was cut short from the pain against the back of her head then she fell.  
>"I've never had to do anything like that in my life." Casey observed the vase and Mrs. Bolden's fallen state, then thought of one of her most aggressive detectives. "My God, I've turned into Elliot."<p>

"Lovely of you to turn up Ms. Novak." Sherlock brushed off his outwear then turned to the door "Now if we could alert the cops, we have solved the case. Good work."

"Wait, what just happened?" Casey snapped as the sirens wailed nearby.

"You assumed Christine was the suspect and I knew from the information you gave me upon her and Mrs. Bolden's meeting that she had to be the next victim. Mrs. Bolden was not delighted at all that all her daughter's hard earned work had fallen into Christine's lap, she probably would have plucked her off first if it were not so obvious, but now she had a someone to cover her up, you. I gave her my number before we left, told her it was yours. Then Mrs. Bolden texted Laura to meet up here in a few hours to for a reunion with Christine. Mrs. Bolden promised the door would be open because Christine and her were just that close that she had her house keys.

"Her plan was to sneak in, plant the evidence here, kill Christine and then make it look like the two of you were partners in the murders. However I caught her before she could finish and now we are at current."

"I have to admit that somewhat brilliant." Casey said.

"Not somewhat Ms. Novak." Sherlock sighed as the detectives entered the room.

"So that's it then." Sargent Sally Donovan held up the bag of toes with disgust. "He sure does have a knack for the weird cases." Sally glanced over to Casey "Are you his new partner then? Business or pleasure?" She laughed "Business of course. Can't be much else, he's a lonely sort, a miserable virgin, it'd be way out of his luck to land a smoking redhead like you. But he probably wouldn't know what to do with you even if he did."

"Thanks, I think?" Casey said "But, I don't believe that is any of your business."

"Ah, American, well they are always are the desperate sort." Donovan earned a glare from the former prosecutor. Casey was far too frustrated to be civil, and if she had to she'd apologize later but she could no longer hold her peace.

"You want to know what's desperate?" Casey said lowly "A squad of 'trained' detectives who actually have to hire a consultant to do their work for them and he finishes it in less than two days. This is an insult you, your position, and your force. My detectives in New York would wipe the floor with you guys."

"Your detectives?" Donovan laughed "Do, enlighten me."

"I wouldn't waste my breath." Casey turned then exited the house. She found Sherlock outside waiting for her.

"They told me you left." Casey raised her brow intrigued.

"I didn't" Sherlock said simply then opened the door of the cab. "Come Casey, let me buy you a drink, and then maybe you will dance with me." Sherlock smiled. Casey did as well as they slipped into the cab.

"I had no idea you were so popular." Casey tried to stand straight as she stared out of the window of Sherlock's flat at the mob of reporters below. They had appeared at the pub Casey and Sherlock had chose in matter of moments, and even after Sherlock had given them his report they had followed the pair to his flat.

"I thought it best to lead them here, instead of your living arrangement." Sherlock said "I remember you hostility towards reporters, and I can't blame you right now. They ruined my dance."

"Sherlock," Casey chuckled "We could still dance here." She said "Just, don't spin me, or anything." Casey did manage to get her drink and apparently she was a lightweight. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, she looked beautiful. "Back home" Casey sighed "I never really got a chance to drink so much. I was always busy, sex crimes in New York, never a dull moment." Casey sighed as Sherlock took her arms.

"How I envy you." Sherlock said. Casey shook her head.

"You shouldn't, it's really hard, not the cases, the victims." Casey sighed again "They are living and some of them..." Casey shook her head as she recalled her first case, and her plea to be taken off of the team after it. "I can still remember the first time I had to ask an eight year old to identify her attacker in a line up." Casey pulled her lips thin then shook her head "Don't envy me...no,.. But you were right."

Sherlock rose am inquiring brow as he dipped Casey.

"When you said that being unemployed was killing me, it really was, until just recently. Without my job I did not know what to do." Casey bit her lips "My clever superior said 'something else' I suppose this is something else then?" Casey half asked as Sherlock spun her. She clung to his broad shoulders with a sigh "This is a good something else. Almost more than I deserve, no case is worth lying to a judge."

"Yes but every victim deserves justice. And every criminal their due." Sherlock took Casey's cheek "No one is above the law."

"I've seen many rise above the law. And sometimes while I stood there powerless to stop it."

"But you are clever. You fight hard. I read up on some of your cases Casey your work is worth the admiration,"

"Thank you, may you please stop spinning me?"

"Forgive my enthusiasm." Sherlock placed Casey back on the floor "A fine dance partner is a rare prize and you Ms. Novak are even more splendid when intoxicated." Sherlock said as the pair took a seat on his sofa "Of course I have not many partners as you may have guessed. Dancing is not always good for working." Sherlock said. Casey almost agreed she never had time for stuff like that, then she remembered Sargent Donovan's words and wondered if Sherlock was ever lonely. Surly there would be no reason for him to, he was not without charm. Casey leaned over toward Sherlock then placed her face on his shoulders and exhaled.

"You know, I think you're quite attractive," Casey said seriously with a sincerity as if this was news to Sherlock, which he found near adorable. "I think, if one looks past you're ... Abrupt qualities you could be quite the catch. Even if that Sargent Donovan, thinks you're a 'lonely virgin'."

"I suppose compared to her many partners I may as well be." Sherlock smirked "But I assure you Ms. Novak, I am no amateur." Sherlock's voice was a low drawl and Casey flushed.

"Is that an invitation?" Casey tried to redeem her tinted cheeks.

"It could be." Sherlock responded with a grin. Casey flushed again then shook her head. She needed to get away, she learned in college that drunk Casey was painfully embarrassing to a sober one the morning after. She wanted to go home but did not look forward to passing through that swarm of reporters, no never.

"I don't want to go out there tonight, may I borrow your extra room?" Casey asked.

Sherlock considered his 'remodeling' of John's room then shook his head. "Take my bed, I have yet to finish remodeling John's." He said and Casey nodded.

Casey stood and kissed Sherlock's forehead "Good night Mr. Holmes." Her raspy voice sounded dreamy and Sherlock watched her form slip into his room.

"Good night Casey." Sherlock spoke softly into the night as Casey closed the door.


	4. Chapter 4: Media Chassé

**Chapter Four: Media Chassé**

Sherlock had sat in his chair all night. His head rested on his upraised hands, his gaze forward. Sometimes his eyes would shut for a moment and he would embrace sleep, but when he awoke he was met with the same peaceful haze that had lulled him there. This peace, was not as alarming as the dull ones which usually followed his cases. No, Sherlock was content to rest in this lull. He did not understand it, but even that failed to alarm him. He just sat in his chair, in the same pose, all night and did not even stir when Mrs. Hudson placed his morning tea beside him. He believed he could stay there all morning, if it were not for the noisy interruption of his former flat mate.

John entered the flat, Sherlock could hear the suppressed giggles and crinkling of paper before he even opened the door.

"Finished with sex holiday already, back to see me so soon? I do hope Mary is sated at least." Sherlock said.

"It's not a sex holiday and that's none of your-" John gave up his argument, he was not going to let Sherlock win. Not today, today John had something to tease Sherlock about. "You know, you're right. I missed you, I probably missed you more than you miss me actually." John smiled feeling accomplished. "One week Sherlock, and you've already found my replacement. Not that I mind, no I don't at all."

"What did you read in your morning paper?" Sherlock asked with his gaze set forward pass John.

"Oh nothing much, just what everyone's talking about." John unraveled the paper and placed it on Sherlock's lap "'Sherlock Holmes' finds a new partner for business and pleasure' Oh the fan club will be ecstatic to know that you have finally hit it off with someone. And now they can finally stop talking about me." John chuckled softly.

Sherlock picked up the paper in his lap. Sherlock pulled in his bottom lip in thought as he scanned the paper before him. It mentioned the case that he and Casey had just solved in record time, failed to get all the details correct concerning the murders, hardly made an effort at explaining how Sherlock had worked it out, but of course it pretended to be accurate on Casey and his perceived romantic relationship.

Casey and he were photographed dancing at the pub of course, climbing into a taxi together and one photo, which really impressed Sherlock, of them looking at flower arrangements. The reporter had throughly done their research, on things that did not matter. Then the article went on to explaining Casey, and her credentials, graduating from Harvard, her work with the SVU, her seventy-one percent conviction rate. Then the article tactlessly referenced Casey's last day in court and her disbarment due to it, with an inquiry if her new job would be assisting Sherlock in more ways than one. "This reporter may as well have dug her grave, Ms. Novak will bury her." Sherlock said with a small smirk.

"Oh come on we all know it's a joke, I'm sure she will understand and take it as one as well." John said.

"Her credentials are mentioned and slandered, I fail to see the humor in this."

"That's not why it was mentioned, Sherlock, They mentioned it because she was an A.D.A. to show that with you she's a perfect match."

"That is not how Casey will see it I certain."

John was about to reply but stopped at the sound of Sherlock's bedroom opening. He paused completely at the sight of Casey as she stepped out of Sherlock's room dressed in her sleeveless black dress from the night before, her red hair loose and her suit jacket in hand. John cleared his throat and straightened himself as he assumed the jokes were more serious than he had believed. "I'm sorry" John blushed "I didn't know it was serious, or mean to joke about it like that." John flushed embarrassed then walked to Sherlock's ear. "You could have told me sooner you know, now I just feel like an insensitive prat."

"Your skills at deduction have not improved at all, John." Sherlock said as Casey stepped completely into the room.

"Good morning" Casey smiled then glanced at John "You must be Doctor Watson, you're blog is fun, I spent about a good hour laughing at the comments." Sherlock raised an eyebrow. Casey pulled her suit jacket over her shoulders then stretched out her hand. "I am Casey Novak, it is nice to meet you" She shook his hand firmly and John nodded.

"Yes pretty, Ah mean, pretty firm grip, Yep, Americans have." John stuttered as he flushed. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "So they um, they say you're from New York Howaz How's that?"

"John" Sherlock sighed.

"Who did?" Casey smiled at John's nerves, he was adorable. "You mean Sherlock?" She raised a fine eyebrow then caught a glimpse of the news paper's large headline. Casey's eyes narrowed She snatched the news article up and began to scan it.

"Here we go." Sherlock sat up in his chair and reached into his suit jacket pocket as Casey's eyes bore into the paper.

"What, how did they?" the more Casey scanned the article the more enraged she became. Finally she crumbled it in her hands. "How dare they." Casey snapped.

"Here is the address to the reporter as well as the editor." Sherlock folded the sheet and lifted it to Casey. She took it flipped it open then turned to put on her coat "As much I would love to see the fire in you when you rip them to shreds, I can see you would prefer to do this alone, correct."

"Of course you are." Casey fluffed her hair out of her coat then turned to John "It was nice meeting you Mr. Watson," She said with a smile "And Sherlock, I will see you again soon." Casey turned sharply down the hall and left with a huff.

"Knock em dead." Sherlock said unenthused as his peaceful lull slipped away. Through the corner of his eyes, Sherlock watched Casey descend down the stairs. When she had completely left the flat, Sherlock stood and watched out his window.

"Sherlock." John said as Sherlock continued to stare. "Sherlock" John repeated himself.

"Will she ever learn how to flag a cab down properly?" Sherlock muttered to himself. "She must have biked a lot in New York."

"Sherlock." John pressed him this time.

"What?" Sherlock snapped and turned to John.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, I'm making sure Ms. Novak is able to get a cab."

"Why don't you just, go with her?"

"Didn't you just hear our conversation? She wants to do this alone." Sherlock turned back to the window just in time to see Casey climb into a cab.

"You're not really going to let her do that are you?" John asked. Sherlock moved from the window and began to pull on his outerwear.

"Of course I will." Sherlock tied his scarf around his neck "I will give her a full five minutes." He turned to descend the stairs. "Do lock the door on your way out John and give my best to the Mary." Sherlock called over his shoulder as he stepped out of 221B.

"Yes and now that you have told me what censure is, please tell me what it says right here." Casey slammed the paper on the table before the befuddled editor.

"It says Dis-"

"It says disbarred, yes. Where did you get that information? Did you ask me? Did you ask any credible sources other than gossip found on any trash talking website of the NYCPD?" Casey's voice lowered dangerously as the editor rose his hands in defense. "I'm going to give you twelve hours to print a retraction, and apology before I make this messy."

The editor began to stutter excuses but stilled at Casey's glare.

"You will print this, or I will make the lives of you, and your staff a living hell for the entire time until I return from my _Censure_." Casey snapped and the editor went silent.

"She can you know." The editor jumped in shock at the presence of the owner the deep baritone voice which was Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock stepped from his hiding spot and stood behind the editor. He leaned down and spoke close to a whisper "Bad idea, infuriating Ms. Novak. You know about her conviction rate with both white collar and sex crimes in New York. Slandering me is one thing, you've got away with it before, but Ms. Novak. She will wound you."

'Fine, I'll retract it, front page tomorrow." the editor cracked and Casey glared at him.

"I said twelve hours." Casey said lowly.

"Fine, fine, just give me time. Consider it done." The editor said and Sherlock moved from his desk.

"I will once I see the papers." Casey said "Don't make me have to come back here."

"But, its true isn't it, you two are together, if it wasn't then you would not be here together."

"Censured. Editor. I am censured, not disbarred. You professionally slandered me. You get the point now?" Casey snapped angrily. "Give me the personal contact of your sources, and I'll give you twenty-four hours." She said and with a nod from the editor she left the office.

"I could have done that on my own." Casey shoved her hands into her pocket as she and Sherlock left the press building.

"You would have noticed me sooner or later." Sherlock said with no intention of reveling his hiding spot or the office's leak "I could only sit back and watch for so long." Then Casey stopped and stared at him curiously.

"Why'd you come?" Her brows frowned and her lips pursed in a way Sherlock could not help but be captivated by. He noted her pink lipstick and her dark eye makeup, they way her red eyelids fluttered when she was upset, the way they held her victim when she was furious. And Casey was lovely when she was furious. Sherlock nodded to himself then turned away.

"How could I resist." Sherlock smirked as he continued to walk with Casey beside him.

"What do you..."

"You ever notice how you speak when you're angry or very serious Ms. Novak?" Sherlock's low drawl cut Casey's question off with his own. They stopped walking and Sherlock watched Casey think on it. "It is as if you are holding a gun against your victim's temple, and every. Single. Word. Has impact." Sherlock closed the distance between them "I would kill to see you in a courtroom Ms. Novak, in your true element." He lifted Casey's chin to earn her gaze. "It would be, exciting." Sherlock suppressed his smirk at Casey's darkened cheeks. He turned from her and began to walk once more.

After getting over whatever haze Sherlock had placed on her when he had stepped too near, Casey began to follow suit. "Remind me to note that, whenever I begin a list on Sherlock Holmes' turn-ons." Casey quipped and earned Sherlock's smirk "Maybe I could even put it on John's blog." She snickered as Sherlock ushered her into a restaurant.

"That would be quite a list." Sherlock said more to himself as he and Casey took their seats. The peaceful haze was returning and even sparked when Casey smiled at him and inquired about him knowing she was starving. Of course he knew, he knew a lot of things about her already but not enough on the effects of having the prosecutor so near could be. Sherlock had not craved nicotine in all his time with the feisty woman before him, but his body hummed for a different fix. Sherlock glanced at his watch and he wondered if it was too early to start dancing.

**A/N: And there goes my first case. Please tell me what you think :).**


	5. Chapter 5: Dance A Chase

**Chapter Five: When We Tango**

Casey clicked off the television with a groan then tossed the remote at it. She stretched out on her cousin's sofa and released a deep sigh. Bridget had left for another business trip two days ago, that normally would not have bothered Casey as it was the norm during her stay in London. She had encountered boredom and loneliness once, but that had all been cured when she had agreed to assist Sherlock Holmes the only consulting detective, ever.

With her role as his part-time assistant, Casey was able to get a feel of what her detectives in New York did every day. She had to admit that her role was small, Sherlock needed little help, but Casey still enjoyed the thrill of being on the fresh crime scene and actually having something to do with finding and catching the perp. The hardest part of her job was dealing with her partner.

Sherlock was brilliant, and he knew it. Because of his brilliance, which he was all too proud of, he could choose the cases he wanted to work on, usually the most unconventional ones, and he solved them in his own unconventional way. Casey found it entertaining most of the time, however the way Sherlock worked, the things he said, and his perception of how dull 'normal' people were, which included Casey, caused many verbal spars between the pair.

If Casey was honest, she'd have to admit she almost enjoyed those verbal spars. To argue with an mind like Sherlock's was a treat not to mention his eloquence and his deep voice which felt like velvet against Casey's ears. It was a dance of words and Casey enjoyed it almost as much as their physical dancing. She shook her head at the thought.

Dancing with Sherlock had not affected her much at first. She simply allowed it to happen whenever he was being annoying or had been previously pleasant. It was never something she had expected to enjoy or even anticipate. But as the months passed, and the cases grew slower Casey often found herself in the arms of the consulting detective. He would ask her during the stillest of moments, after they had spent the entire day gathering whatever evidence Sherlock found necessary, sometimes Sherlock would sit silently for hours. Then when Casey stood to leave, he would take her in his arms, and pull her into a waltz.

Sometimes Casey would find her head resting on his broad chest, or her face against his smooth neck inhaling the scent of chamomile and pines which Casey had for some reason associated with Sherlock. To be held in his strong arms and led through graceful steps, it was comfortable it was pleasant. But when Casey noted their faces only inches apart, it became alarming.

The moment did not last long and Casey was torn on weather or not she wanted it to. It would have been so easy to close the gap between them and kiss the unique pair of lips before her. It would have been so easy to be embraced by those strong arms and caressed by his large hands. But for that moment she hesitated, which was long enough for the computer to alert them that their target had begun to move, and once more the game was on.

Casey could hate that game for ruining her moment, or she could be very thankful for the wake up call. What if she had kissed Sherlock? Would he have kissed her back? He said he was no amateur, but that did not mean he was open to giving or receiving affection. Plagued by thoughts of 'what ifs' and 'how could you' Casey decided it was time she took a break from the work of consulting detective and focused on something more important. Clearing her censure, and getting back to New York as soon as possible. If the press had died down that is.

Casey was able to distance herself from work with Sherlock under the cover of excess paper work from her previous cases in New York. She found that she could be a good liar as long as no one saw her physically. And because she never had to physically respond to any of the text, that began to pour in after her first week of absence, her excuses seemed more believable and she was able to get avoid Sherlock for another two weeks. It seemed too easy, and Casey wondered if she had convinced him at all of if he just simply did not care. John was around more often now, she began to suspect that her need was not as vital as before, it was freeing but still somewhat disappointing. Unable to find the logic in her disappointment, Casey dismissed the emotion then proceeded to enjoy her vacation.

On one of her afternoon bikes, Casey ran into John. John was beyond happy to see her, he was near ecstatic. Apparently in her absence, Sherlock had become domineering, imperious, pompous, and just out right rude. When Casey asked how that was different from his normal behavior, John could only reply that it was somewhat intensified. He asked her if she had finished her paperwork and what Sherlock referred to as a 'pointless pursuit' in clearing her censure and Casey had not the heart to lie to him.

She explained simply that she need a break from it all and how she was not ready to return to work with Sherlock just yet. John seemed to have understood then with a small smile he added how Sherlock would never listen to any of his excuses, even though he was married with a baby on the way, he could never convince the man to leave him alone for more than two weeks.

"That's because you're special John." Casey said with a smile "And so is Sherlock. He needs special friends to be around him." John shook his head.

"We are not the special ones..." John muttered and Casey rase an eyebrow.

"Greg is not one of his special friends," John said "Sherlock can hardly remember the man's first name, yet he does the same to him when I'm not around." John patted her shoulder lightly "We are not the special ones.." he said again then turned and left Casey with that. Those words stuck with her. And they remained in the back of her head even as she continued to supply excuses to Sherlock's text they still remained.

One morning when the words got too loud and her boredom had near begun to build, Casey received a text from Sherlock that against her reason, she could not bring herself to ignore.

"Will you dance with me tonight Ms. Novak?"

Something within Casey stirred at the request. Stirred at just the thought of being in Sherlocks arms once more, of being held close to the elegance he possessed. It was frightening how much she craved it, it was frightening how those few words could possess her. Casey's torn emotions prevented her response but as her day passed her thoughts always returned to the unanswered text.

When evening fell, Casey began to feel restless. She felt like she should prepare for something. Maybe she should even go out. She showered earlier than normal, pinned up her hair, and began to browse Bridget's closet. Casey was in the middle of trying on her fourth dress when the doorbell rang. She zipped up the dress, primed her hair and make up then answered the door.

Sherlock stood a picture of elegance in suit and tie waiting for Casey as if he were all but expected. "That is lovely Ms. Novak," His eyes scanned Casey's form, almost deliberately lingering which would have made Casey flush, if she did not work in SVU. "But I think something a bit more formal would suit this evening."

No matter how much she might have missed him, Casey could not stop her involuntary reaction to Sherlock being, Sherlock. How dare he assume she was just going to join him and not to mention that look. Casey's eyes narrowed and her lips tightened as she prepared to verbally strike then Sherlock spoke once more.

"However lovely you are now, you must change. For the environment's sake" Sherlock added "You understand, right?"

Casey bit back a girlish blush and gave a small nod. She turned invited Sherlock in, sat him down then retreated into Bridget's rooms. As she retreated into the rooms, she wanted to berate herself for giving in so easily or being so flattered that he had called her lovely but none of that mattered much to linger on. Casey pulled a long black evening dress from the closet and cemented her thoughts. All that mattered was that in a few moments her boredom would be cured and she would be whisk around in a scene of elegance with the first man to make her blush in a long time.

It was everything Casey had expected and more. Sherlock had taken her to a formal ball and she was more than grateful she had changed from her little black dress to meet the occasion. She held on to Sherlock arm as he displayed charm which she had only glanced at during their time together. He lured her to himself easily, she never let him out of her sight, she was entranced with him and his person and they had not even their first dance. Then his arm coveted her waist and pulled her closer. When Casey looked at him to note the sudden change she found Sherlock's gaze forward on the distinguished man who approached them with his nose held high.

"Ms. Novak I presume," The upright man tilted his head at his pointless inquiry. "I have tried to meet you on several occasions now. You are not an easy woman to distract."

"Thank you." Casey said with small smile.

"He means you aren't very vigilant." Sherlock clarified.

"Oh. Well that's what I have you for." Casey noted.

"This is true, you should stick around more then." Sherlock responded

"Maybe I should, but whose this guy trying to distract me anyway?"

"No one of importance." Sherlock said firmly and the man gave a condescending smile.

"Oh this is lovely, Mum will be quite pleased to hear how well you are getting along with someone with such potential." He said and "My brother seems quite found of you."

"Mycroft..." Sherlock warned

"He's even forbid me from contacting you. But of course he always says that concerning his..." Mycroft grimaced as if the word was painful "Friends."

"Brother..." Casey nodded to herself, she was wondering why his arrogant vibe seemed so familiar. "Well, it was nice to meet you," Casey offered her hand and Mycroft shook it then returned his attention to Sherlock.

"Everything in order I suppose." He said distantly and Sherlock responded just as ambiguously. The vague conversation between the brothers went on for a moment then with a nod Casey slipped from Sherlock's grasp. She felt like she should excuse herself and added "I'm going to go have some wine." Sherlock caught her hand.

"No." Mycroft said calmly then gave Sherlock an unreadable glance.

"Taken care of." Sherlock affirmed then his brother gave another tilt of his head.

"Have a lovely evening Ms. Novak." Mycroft took his leave and Casey turned to Sherlock.

"What was that about?" She asked but Sherlock appeared as if he had not heard her, his gaze was over her shoulder.

"Ms. Novak, our dance you promised me one." He said.

"Actually, I didn't," Casey laughed softly even as she was led to the dance floor, "But ok."

Sherlock settled her into a waltz earning all her missed attention then he settled her into another one, then another, and when Casey had seemed like she wanted to stop, he gained her gaze "I want to take this up a notch." Sherlock's low voice rumbled smoothly. Casey was pulled sharply against his chest. "I presume you tango?"

"What? yes, but..."

"Good, then lets" With a sharp turn of the music Casey was spun then with Sherlock's hand firmly on her waist she was pursued, captured, then pursued again. The chase was estravogant, her eyes were locked with the irecdent ones before her and the heat the passion they displayed stirred her on. Then he began to speak "There is a story to this dance, did you know that?" Sherlock's voice was beside Casey's ear. Then she turned out of his grasp. "It is a chase, a game." Sherlock's large hands found her waist as he captured her the second time and held her tightly against his form.

"Cat and mouse." Casey whispered.

"Yes" Sherlock all but purred as he folded Casey into himself then lifted her in the air. With one more spin he placed her on the ground and she clung to him. "And Ms. Novak, I always catch my mice." The music settled but Casey's heart raced. She pressed her face into Sherlock's chest and hid her adventures smile.

Sherlock pulled loose strands of Casey's red hair behind her ear. He leaned down his lips brushed against her ears as his velvet voice spilled form his lips. "In two minutes this room will go completely dark, but I need you to pay close attention to one person." He said, Casey's eyes widen "There is an expected abduction of a very important government official's daughter, she is right behind me in red. See her there? I need you to keep your eyes on her and note if anyone new comes into your view."

"What?" Casey's brows crossed.

"The kidnapper is in this room and I have worked it down to three potential suspects. When he does appear I need you to describe him to me quickly and accurately so I can act accordingly."

"What's going on?"

"Try to keep up Ms. Novak. We have the opportunity to prevent an abduction and even catch the culprits responsible for many others. Focus Casey, the game is on."

Casey's eyes scanned back and forth as she tried to process everything she was told then she noted her cue "I see him." she said

"Excellent" Sherlock pulled her up "Dark blue, black or white?"

Casey began to describe the man before her and within moments the room went dark. Sherlock plan was spun into action and all Casey could do was witness the brilliance that was Sherlock Holmes.

Casey could not hold back her smile as she and Sherlock rode in the cab away from the scene. Everything had been handled perfectly, the abduction avoided, the criminal caught and the British Government pleased, all in one night. Casey shook her head, being around Sherlock was never boring.

"You seem quite pleased." Sherlock's voice pulled Casey out of her thoughts. "I assumed you would be furious with me for pulling you into another case, against your will."

"I am learning to not be bothered by a lot of things you do." Casey said then raised her hands "Don't take that as permission to do this again though. I wonder, what if I really did not come tonight, then what would you have done?"

Sherlock thought about it for a moment, "John really isn't a good dancer." He said "But I suppose I could have made it work." He earned Casey's laugh, and realized that he had missed that sound. He turned to her and tenderly he drew her attention "But you did enjoy it, didn't you?" Sherlock asked seriously and Casey nodded. Sherlock took her face in his palms and lured her closer to himself. "Every case could be this enjoyable." His eyes promised. Casey was captivated by them.

They were open and deep, and within them was a plea begging her to end her distance. To return to him, work beside him once more. This time Casey was conscience of the distance as it grew smaller, this time she almost allowed herself to fall into those depths of uncertain survival, it was tempting and she knew she would not be rejected. She could almost feel those soft lips against her own and she craved it in an alarming way. But then, Casey turned her head. The moment ended, and she felt like she had let them both down.

"I'm sorry." Casey shook her head "I can't... I really need to focus on... my stuff..." Casey could not lie properly in front of him, but she had a feeling he was never deceived to begin with. Sherlock did not state it. He did not note her obvious lie or call her goals futile. He set his jaws firmly and turned his eyes, which shone dejection, forward for the remainder of the ride.

Sherlock was silent even as they neared her flat. He escorted Casey from the cab with a sense of finality which unnerved her. When they reached her door, she invited him in once more, but he declined. Instead he took her bare arms lifted her hands to his lips then kissed them both affectionally and said his farewells. Casey watched him leave, even from her window she watched the cab drive off. She believed she made the right decision, but that did not stop her from feeling horrible about it, even if she could not explain why, she just did.

That had been over three weeks ago, but Casey remembered it vividly. Sherlock had ceased to text her since then and slowly boredom and idleness began to creep in. She missed him, missed their adventures, but her caution would not allow her to contact him. Sherlock was too dangerous. If Casey allowed herself to stay around him she was certain it would only end in heartbreak.

His words rang in her head "I always catch my mice." Casey did not want to be captured, after cats caught mice they play with them until they stop moving, then go find another one. Sherlock was brilliant with a brilliant mind, and while Casey knew she had merit, she could not compete with him. How long would it take for him to tire her out and go find another mice to chase? She tried to push these thoughts away, banished these feelings. She convinced herself that the more distance she put between them, she was certain that she would overcome. Maybe then, once again, she'd allow herself join his game.

With a sigh Casey pulled her legs into her chest. It had been another quiet night, but something within her was restless. There was a nagging feeling within her that had begun ever since she had returned from her bike around the city. Casey felt like she was being followed, watched, and it unnerved her.

"You really need to talk to someone about this paranoia Casey," the censured prosecutor tried to convince herself, but the night was too silent. She stood, flicked on the lamp and scanned the room. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Slowly she crept down the halls turning on lights as she did. She tried to convince herself there was nothing wrong, but sound of a glass vase breaking both disproved, and startled her.

Casey turned quickly, Mr. Whiskers scampered away. She tried to catch her breath, but the cat's fleeing brought another thing to her attention. The glass door of the kitchen, was ajar. In all her time spent with Bridget, never had that door been open.

After staring at the door for longer than she would have liked, Casey picked up the phone to alert the police. Before she could fully alert the operator of a possible break in she was knocked from her feet.

Even as her attacker's arms tightened around her neck, Casey screamed. She had never learn how to defend herself but that did not discourage her from fighting back. She struggled with him and knocked everything in their path down. As her fight proved futile, Casey began to feel light headed. Helplessness washed over her as she was dragged further toward the open kitchen door. Then he tripped.

Effectively, Casey elbowed him in his stomach and fought her release. He caught her again with a snarl then threw the his captive against the wall of the kitchen and kicked her in her stomach. Then suddenly he jumped back. The sounds of sirens could be heard in the distance and without another glance, the man fled. Casey stared blankly at his retreat as she sank silently against the wall.


	6. Chapter 6:

**Chapter Six: Missed The Dance**

Sherlock placed his bow down with a sigh. His brow twitched, his hands shook slightly. He had not been this bored in a while. He had not had a craving this strong in over two months, but he did not crave nicotine. No, he craved raspberries and vanilla. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as if the source of that fragrant aroma stood before him, but Casey Novak had been absent for far too long and Sherlock was bored.

He had taken cases in her absence with John as his assistant but a married John was a distracted John, which made him even more dull than before. Sherlock tried to bear with this, but even still married John's time was very limited. Then there was the matter of Sherlock's new found past-time, even before Mary, John would never consent to a dance with him, never. Especially a tango.

The corner of Sherlock's lips rose as he recalled his last dance with the prosecutor. Casey's skills were well worth praise, and Sherlock would have done so, had she not disappeared. She believed it was time for her to begin to focus on her no doubt glorious return to the court room and see when exactly that would be. Sherlock withheld his logical remarks on the hopelessness of her cause, and did not argue, but as it was, he wish he had. He lifted his violin once more with an attempt to clear his mind but his thoughts were interrupted by an irritating thumping sound, it was then he remembered he had company.

"Surly John could be stirred, this is a matter of national security." Mycroft lowered his umbrella to his leg once more as his stubborn little brother refused to acknowledge his urgency. "What happened to your pretty little American? No doubt even she would be of some use?"

Sherlock plucked a rude note on his violin then frowned at his brother.

"Did I hit a soft spot? Have you ran her away?" Mycroft's tone was patronizing but it earned him his first real response from Sherlock since his arrival.

"I did not run her away." Sherlock snapped "Casey Novak is a prosecutor, not a detective, or a solider. She has been exposed to too much and she needed space."

"She works sex crimes in New York Sherlock, she has seen worst."

"On photographs and screens, never first hand, never up close, until now."

"She worked with live victims of rather heinous crimes, and describe all the gory details in court. Surly that could be more traumatizing than dealing with dead victims. Have you become that protective of her?" Mycroft gave a crooked smile "You must be quite found. Could she be a distraction?"

"Why the sudden interest Ms. Novak? Are you still upset because she refused to get into the car with Anthea?" Sherlock smirked at his brother's frown. "Let her be." Sherlock glanced at his phone "She is where she would like. Completely..." He walked to his window and noted the lights "out of reach..." There was a knock at his door.

"Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson's small voice called.

"Yes, yes, come in." Sherlock snapped and raised his bow to his violin. The door open. Sherlock stilled at the sight behind Mrs. Hudson. Something was wrong.

"Ah Ms. Novak, fancy seeing you again." Mycroft said with a smirk toward Sherlock "We were just talking about you."

Sherlock scanned Casey. Her normally perfect hair was ruffled as were her clothing. She held her coat tightly around her as if she were afraid someone would snatch it, and her usually keen green eyes were wide and hunted. When Mycroft moved toward her, she flinched.

"Mycroft I'll take the case. Now go." Sherlock turned to his brother to catch his gaze. "go." he said just above a whisper and without another word Mycroft left.

Casey tried to restore her calm as she watch Mycroft leave. Sherlock put away his Violin then turned to her.

"Did they feed you?"

"What?" Casey's brows crossed.

"It is pass nine, how long did they keep you at the station?" Sherlock turned to his coat. "You arrived here in a police car." He added "Did they feed you?"

"No, I didn't want to-"

"Great, then we should find you dinner." Sherlock made a move to the door but Casey grabbed his sleeve to stop him.

"I don't want to go out."

"Easily solved there is a cafe down stairs."

"No." Casey said firmly. She held to his sleeve for good measure, then turned into the room. "Something happened." She said cooly.

"Well that is quiet obvious." Sherlock began but stilled at the firm shake of Casey's head. He examined her again, her composer was still calm and cool, but something lay beneath, it was vital. As much as Sherlock admired Casey's ability to stay calm under pressure he hated it now because something had happened and because of her control, Sherlock could not determine how server it was, or how much it had affected the prosecutor. So he would be forced to wait until she disclosed it.

He watched her as she scanned the room and breath in the scene around her. Nothing had changed in her absence and for this she seemed content. Then she walked over to the sitting area, and took the seat. The seat reserved for clients. Sherlock took his cue and sat before her.

"Here's a copy of the police report." Casey handed Sherlock an envelope which he promptly placed beside him his gaze never leaving her form. "It says everything important. And I would rather not repeat it all tonight. Long story short." Casey's raspy voice seemed as if it wanted to break. She turned her gaze from Sherlock's and continued "I was attacked in my cousin's flat. I have no idea who did it, or what their motive could have been." Even as her eyes watered they turned fierce "But I would like to find out."

It was then Sherlock noted the bruises on Casey's neck the mark on her cheek and the slump in her posture. His fist clenched and his vision blurred as thoughts of one who attacked Casey filled his head. One who targeted his partner, his dancer, his distraction... Sherlock stilled his thoughts as he noted Casey was speaking once more. She told him any help he could offer she would be grateful. Then she admitted her helplessness and even her fear that the attacker would return as if those were things to be ashamed of. She expressed her fear that her attacker may have stalked her for a while and learned her pattern, then told him that she had decided to leave, go into hiding, somewhere else maybe even out of London until the criminal was caught. Then she stood and made to leave but Sherlock caught her arms quickly.

"Stay." His desperation called and Casey stilled. "I will find him, and he will pay, but you have to stay Casey." Sherlock knew he did not need her near to solve the case but he wanted her there. He wanted her near. In her absence he always hoped she would return, never under the circumstances that she had but how could he let her slip away so suddenly now? How could he not make her stay especially after she had been attacked.

Sherlock took note of Casey's state and her rustled appearance she would probably more frightened that she let on. He placed his hands on her shoulders."Stay here with me." Sherlock said once more then noted how Casey's form relaxed at his touch and his words. But he saw the wheels in her head turn before she began to speak. "If he has been stalking you for a while then he maybe still. Staying alone would only tempt him to try again. Yes being here would bring you possibly unwanted publicity, but I doubt he would take the risk. I am know to be very hostile towards my burglars. You will be safe."

Casey nodded she allowed herself to begin to accept the idea as she returned to the original intention of her visit. "Then, you will help me figure out who he is?" Casey noticed the glint in Sherlock's eyes.

"Yes," Sherlock almost smiled. Contentment washed over him as basked in the victory of keeping Casey near. The work they could get done, the arguments, and the dance, dancing would be lovely. He turned to her "However your hasty arrival has pushed us into a matter of national security, one of which my brother trust that you will be able to never mention outside of this room which will also be your current solution." Sherlock slipped Casey's coat off her shoulders and noted her attire curiously. She was wearing her university sweats. "When we return to review the crime scene, we can collect your more suitable attire, but until then we should get to work." Sherlock smiled when Casey rolled her eyes.

"How will this case dealing with national security help me again?" Casey asked. Sherlock congratulated himself for restoring Casey's fire.

"What better way to take your mind off a criminal assault then hunting one of them down?" Sherlock took Casey in his arms "Let's dance Ms. Novak, it's been far too long, and then, we will get to work."

Sherlock rested his chin on his hands as his tea grew cold beside him. He had read the police report several times but was unable to get a clear lead. He did not know where to begin. When he returned to the flat with Casey, she did not talk about what happened she simply grabbed her few things and left. Sherlock was dying to question her, but for her sanity, he would wait.

He moved Casey into John's former room which was no longer maimed with bullet holes and fairly decent. Sherlock did eventually remodel it. The room was comfortable but that mattered little. Sherlock could see from the dark circles under Casey's eyes that she could not have slept a wink her first night in his flat, and he doubt that would change anytime soon. He just had to distract her, occupy her with work, that would be her solution. She already looked relaxed as she scanned the information of Mycroft's case. A well placed distraction.

"So apparently all the incriminating evidence to convict this official, just disappeared? How do they expect us to find it? Where can we even start?" Casey stared at the file in her hands as Sherlock sat in his chair in what would appear to be deep thought. "Are we supposed to get this evidence back to protect the suspect or prove he's guilty?" Casey frowned "They have to have digital copies."

"Don't spend too much time wondering why when we lack the actual evidence, or we'll never find it. Mycroft has been so generous to give us a list of ones who would be mostly affected by this case, shall we start from the top?" Sherlock said. Casey pulled the list from the file then sat at the computer.

"Morgan Adams, age 53, been in the business for over twenty years, married two kids..." Casey was told to cross his name off before she even finished his bio. She forgot how abrupt he could be, but nodded. She continued through the list as Sherlock continue to pick his brain. He could not understand why someone would attack Casey, or pull any leads or connections. It could not have been random. The idea occurred to him that it could have been due to her association with him, but his villains usually did not fail in their kidnapping. No it was not him. His brow twitched, Casey was still going through the list. He noted that they they were actually near the end then he stopped her.

"Say the fifth one again." Sherlock said suddenly

Casey, who was on number twenty managed a small smile as she repeated the name of the fifth person she had missed these moments, although normally it would have caused her a great deal of irritation, she appreciated it now.

"Yes, I thought as much." Sherlock stood "Fresh face, all the rest of these men are ancient but this one is new, three years new, we might be able to get more information form him but not me. Casey I need you."

Casey shrugged her shoulders "Sure. What can I do?"

"Is there anything else I can get you?" The secretary asked Casey as she sat in the waiting room of the young businessman.

"No thank you, I will just wait here until Mr. Cline is ready to see me." Casey smiled kindly at the woman.

"He should be out soon, but I have to warn you he's not the most pleasant to reporters these days. He may not rush to see you right away." The secretary said.

"Well, I have all day." Casey said with a smile.

"Yes the flat, I was able to look at the scene when I went with Ms. Novak earlier however the attack does not match this criminal's style. It could not have been the same one." Sherlock held his phone to his ear as he kept a close watch on Casey who waited for their target.

"We scanned that area for patterns, he was the closest one who hunted there."

"But it was not his style. Arrest him anyway he deserves it, give me a few minutes and I can tell you his location. I will continue to search for her attacker."

"Sherlock we can help you if you let us."

"Oh, I doubt that," Sherlock noted the businessman as he entered the room. Casey stood to meet him. "I have to go." Sherlock ended the call to watch the brief confrontation.

"He actually refused my interview." Casey shook her head.

"It was half expected." Sherlock flagged a cab.

"You knew he would?"

"Of course, he has had many media slip ups, I just wanted to see how recent the last one was. Seeing as to how fast he sent you away it must have been very recent. We should expect a leaked story soon, and the reporter who writes it will be able to direct us to our missing evidence." Sherlock said as they both climbed into the cab.

Sherlock placed the file down once more then glanced at Casey. She was sitting in his chair, her legs folded into her chest, in her hands she clutched a cool cup of tea. He turned to her and circled her then stopped to kneel before her so that he could catch her gaze.

He noted the dark circles under Casey's eyes, as well as their unusual redness. She was not sleeping, but there was no time to focus on that. More pressing than that, Sherlock needed answers, he needed more information, which meant he would have to make Casey relive the incident which no doubt kept her awake at night. It if it meant keeping her safe, Sherlock was more than willing to sacrifice Casey's bright eyes and perfect porcine skin.

"Casey" Sherlock earned her gaze. "I know you gave your statement to the police, I have read it several times, but I need to interview you myself. Walk me though it one more time."

"It's been over forty-eight hours, a lot of important details are long forgotten." Casey shook her head.

"Yes, but you are a prosecutor, you know what things to focus on and you probably have not stopped reliving that moment since it happened. I know you have not been sleeping."

Casey frowned and shut her eyes ruefully. "Could you just read it? I was very through in my explanation two nights ago."

"I know, but I was not the one who interviewed you." Sherlock earned Casey's gaze.

"I don't like to talk about it Sherlock." Casey had said those same words to Olivia after she had briefly informed her former peer about her attack. "I don't like to relive it with others. It makes me feel weak, helpless, and even a little afraid that it would happen again."

"It will not." Sherlock took Casey's face in his hands "I promise you, you are safe. But I need you to cooperate, so I can find the one who did this to you. I want to find him Casey, I want to make him pay." Casey was stilled by the uncharacteristically deep concern in Sherlock's eyes. She felt lured by them, his gaze was hypnotizing. Before she could talk herself out of it, she closed the distance between them and her lips against his full and perfectly sculpted pair.

Casey's eyes went wide at her actions. She paused and hardened herself for the verbal sting, how could she be so bold? The rebuttal never came. Sherlock pulled her face closer, and finished the gentle kiss with another one. Then he leaned back and noted the flutter of Casey's eyelids as she tried to recompose herself.

"That was lovely Ms. Novak," Sherlock said "But I still need to re-interview you."

Casey glared at him and clenched her fist. "I didn't kiss you to get out of it-:

Sherlock held up his hand with a smirk "I know." he chuckled to himself and admitted he might enjoy riling Casey up a little too much, but he needed to push that aside now. He wanted to catch her attacker, then maybe he'd kiss her again, a dance would be nice too. "Start from the beginning, Casey." Sherlock took his seat in front of Casey then with a deep sigh Casey began.

She glanced at the clock, it was long past midnight and they were still reviewing her attack. It seemed as if Sherlock was being more than through which surprised her, she did not think he would need so many details. Casey had seen Sherlock's brilliant mind at work, it usually did not take him this long to develop a lead.

"Suspects Casey, I need a suspect." Sherlock said as he stared at his wall "In your career, as ambitious as you were, I am sure you have made many enemies. But which of them could have a reach this far to follow you to London?"

"What? Why do we think this is a personal attack now?" Casey was sure she had missed something in Sherlock's muttering over the past few hours.

"He slipped in," Sherlock began and Casey stiffened as she saw the scene play out before her once more, but this time she had Sherlock to keep her company. "From your estimate he could have been in the house for a while. If he were a burglar, he might not have even noticed your presence because you did not move for the whole day after your bike. If he were a specific burglar he could have found what he was looking for and left without a trace, but you said the cat interfered. When the cat broke the vase you ran to it and thus caught your attacker in the act. An easy solution would have been to just knock you out, or kill you swiftly then leave." Casey flinched at the image. Sherlock continued to speak "But he attempted to drag you. That was not in the police report, but you said it, the marks on your kitchen floor, and the direction of the struggle show the same. He tried to drag you out. Which can only lead me to the suspicion that this was personal and he came for you."

"For me?" Casey clenched her fist and bit her lips at the knowledge she had almost been abducted. "But how, I am not a good target, yes I'm a tourist, but it does not look like that others."

"I know you took every precaution to avoid this. You were very careful, which is why this leads me to believe that this is a personal attack. Tell me about your enemies Casey, ones with enough power to reach you here in London."

Casey wrapped her blanket around her tightly then scanned her mind. Sherlock was correct, she had made many enemies in her career, such was the price of being a really good prosecutor. Casey even had enemies within her own office, but she could not think of any of them that would have influence in Europe. She stopped for a moment as she recalled how she had caused a medical doctor and investigation consultant of a mercenary firm to have her medical license suspended, but if that firm wanted her dead, she would have been dead by now. Casey pressed her eyes shut and shook her head, there had to be someone.

"I did not expect you to have so many enemies Ms. Novak." Sherlock leaned back in his seat as Casey scanned her thoughts. "Or so few."

"I have enough." Casey said finally then sighed. "The only group I can think of right now is an obsessive fan club of a sociopathic criminal I convicted."

"A fan club?"

"Yes, he was very charismatic. And after he coerced a young woman into replicating his crimes, I was finally able to get him taken away from the public." Casey said then noted Sherlock's inquiring gaze. "I made a deal." Casey said firmly "He was serving eight life sentences when I pulled him as a witness for the prosecution with a deal that he would be moved to a federal prison with the chance of parole. He took it, but he threw the case. After my perceived failure I informed him that I would still hold up my end of our bargain. I transferred him to a federal prison." Casey watched the corner of Sherlock's lips turn up "23 hour lock down, no phone calls, no letters, no visitations, no human contact. I took him away from his fans, I doubt he will ever get that parole."

"You would have done that even if the case went as you planned."

"Of course I would have." Casey's pressed "He managed to sexually assault a young woman, convince her to murder and have a crowd his waiting for his public appearance since his lock up all while being incarcerated. I had to shut him down."

"And you did, I doubt that any of them followed you here."

"Good, because I hate it when perps hide behind their idols and not take responsibly for their actions."

"It also makes for a very dull and unoriginal case." Sherlock said then stood from his chair. Casey stood as well. He pulled her into his arms, his fingers gently traced her face then he kissed her again. Casey fought to keep her balance as she was held in the tall man's arms and mesmerized by his touched. They pulled away slightly. Sherlock's thumb traced Casey's nose and under her eyelids. "Please sleep tonight Casey." Sherlock rubbed the dark marks as if they would wipe off "These marks are ruining your skin. Now your eyes just look, dull."

"Hardly expected comment after just being kissed, but why should I expect anything normal from you." Casey said. Sherlock kissed her again then released her.

"Good night Casey." He turned to sit in his chair as Casey slipped into John's former room.

Sherlock sat in his chair in his normal pose as he considered Casey's attack again. She did not hear the attacker, she would not have if she had never come in contact with him, if the cat had never broke the vase, if Casey had never walked into the kitchen where the attacker was waiting in the hallways. Waiting. Sherlock blinked, the attacker was waiting for Casey, he did attempt to abduct her, but Sherlock felt that was not his original intent. The crime scene proved it, he was looking though the house for something. "So because he could not find what he was looking for, why not take one who could." Sherlock said then stood. "Casey, where is your host?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven:**

A scream roused 221B followed by the slam of a door and panicked mutterings which sought reason. With a yawn the permeant resident entered the kitchen to meet the source of the ruckus.

"There's a head in your fridge." Casey tried to sound calm but her frame still quaked from the fright.

"Ah yes," Sherlock supplied another yawn, then perked up "You did not turn it upright did you? I am testing the..." Casey raised her hands with a shake of her head and Sherlock took a mental note to explain it to her later. His eyes scanned over the former prosecutor. She must have stepped out of the shower only moments ago. Her wet red hair was pulled up in a loose bun there was a small trail of water on her neck even on the collar of her light blue shirt which slightly clung to her form. His eyes traveled further down and noted that she shifted uncomfortably at his gaze. Before he had time to question her odd behavior the scent of fresh raspberries caught his nose, and how Sherlock missed that scent, it entranced him and lured him closer to her.

Casey's breath caught as Sherlock neared her. The fright from seeing the severed head was all but replaced with a different sensation. Anxiety, fear, excitement, Casey could not pinpoint it but as Sherlock's arms found her waist the feeling only grew until there faces were inches apart. She thought he might kiss her again but he turned his face, and his nose fell on her neck. Casey's breath caught and she was pulled closer to Sherlock's form.

"Maybe we..." Casey started to say but it was hard to speak and gasp at the same time. His nose trailed down her neck as his large hands pressed her closer into himself. Casey squirmed with intent of escaping but stilled as his hands began to mold her into him.

Sherlock ignored Casey's murmurs as he throughly appreciated the source of his former deprivation. He held himself back the night before, but with the threat removed from Casey's attack, Sherlock could no longer restrain himself. His hands traveled over her slim waist up to her shoulders and loosened the clip that restrained her red hair. Casey tried to speak once more. Sherlock turned on his filters. He wanted to focus on this sensation this smell this feeling of Casey, having her so near breathing her in. He held her closer even as she squirmed. It was intoxicating. Somehow she escaped his grasp but Sherlock caught her in his arms again only to have her escape once more. Frustrated with the second escape his, filters fell.

"Ms. Novak." Sherlock snapped "Would you kindly keep still, as not to ruin my enjoyment."

"I'm sorry I- wait," Casey caught herself "I am not apologizing for stoping you, this is my body." Casey snapped "And we have to find out who's my abductor remember? Before he gets away..."

"Oh would you stop thinking about yourself for one moment." Sherlock sighed clearly irritated, he turned from her "I told you last night. He did not come for you. Weren't you listening?"

"What? No you didn't." Casey's brows frowned "The last thing you told me was to take care of my dark circles."

"Which you clearly have not." Sherlock snapped and Casey narrowed her eyes before she steadied her breathing.

"What did you tell me last night then Sherlock?" She asked as calmly as she could.

Sherlock rolled his eyes then turned to his computer. "Bridget Myers, your cousin was a very good investigative reporter. Her last few articles all caught the front page and all targeting very important public officials." Sherlock turned the laptop screen to Casey "It seems ambition runs deep in your family, she was on her way to the top, with many enemies."

Casey pressed her lips together. "You think someone hired that man to attack her." she began to accept Sherlock's deduction. "Why would they do that?"

"A warning, maybe to shut her up." Sherlock noted Casey's clenched fist then pulled up another tab on his laptop "Recognize this man? He was enraged when you visited him, and if we do our research we see that the last reporter who visited him quoted him in several places in her article. All reveling highly classified information linking his company, to a certain terrorist cell. She promised to continue her research on this issue."

"He stopped her." Casey stood but Sherlock stopped her

"The last thing we need is for you to lose your calm in this matter. It has always been your strength, stay focused."

"I am focused." Casey snapped then caught herself. She blinked several times then exhaled. "I think we should question him again this time investigating a kidnapping in which he would be a possible suspect." She said and Sherlock nodded.

Casey walked fast from the building with Sherlock behind her. "That was a dead end." she said.

"But it really did get him on his toes. I think we are closer to finding the missing evidence now." Sherlock said.

"Are you still on that case?" Casey scanned her phone and noted a new message.

"It is a matter of national security Mycroft says." Sherlock replied and Casey shook her head.

"Since when did you care." Casey said to herself then lifted the phone to her ear. She was met with a terrified scream whom she automatically recognized the owner. "Bridget," Casey whispered as the scream was muffled out and someone breathe into the phone.

The cryptic voice spoke. "You've been digging." The man paused and Casey put the message on speaker so Sherlock could hear s well "The only one to notice this useless one's absence. I feared no one would and thus make my ransom useless. And you are such a good friend, with such a good connection. I am rather counting on that connection, do hold him close until I contact you again."

"Whoever it was knows about you, and they must know you'll find her." Casey said and Sherlock nodded.

"Just given the proper ammunition..." Sherlock noted John's entrance then waved for him to come in. "Casey, John and I will take it from here."

"What?"

"You are emotionally compromised and thus a burden to our investigation." Sherlock said.

"Wh-What, he means is that you need to rest, you're a client now." John tried to defend.

"That is not what I meant, although you could use the rest. The dark circles around your eyes, are still there."

"Sherlock!" John snapped.

Casey gathered herself. "You want me off the case?" She tried to suppress her rising emotions which made her face look somewhat childish "You want me to just sit home while Bridget is held up for random by some maniac? How could you ask me to do that? How could you expect that I would agree?"

"I don't," Sherlock said "I had hoped you would find the missing evidence while we searched for Ms. Myers."

"Would you let that case go?"

"I would, if I did not believe it was directly related to Ms. Myers's absence."

"What?"

"Your cousin was set or reveling every secret that company had to offer. But recently she dug too far, caused a man his reputation and endangered many others. Businessmen, government officials, terrorist groups and networks, and the like are all endangered by her investigations. But if we follow the breadcrumbs, we see that one of her targets is a prime suspect for a case which is currently missing key evidence. Ms. Myers was grabbed by a criminal entity with more to lose than the government official who hired them if this information was brought to the light. I have narrowed it down to four possible groups, and decided to negotiate with them but it would make things run a lot smoother, if I had this key evidence." Sherlock noted a message on his phone as he answered Casey's unasked question "The fact that she is held at ransomed proves that she does not have it, or know its current location, so it could not have been her who stole it, but maybe an accomplice."

"That seems to be the most important part of this case, why give it to me if I'm supposed to be emotionally compromised?"

"I can work with or without the evidence Ms. Novak. I only assumed you would want to help." Sherlock pocketed his phone and turned to his coat.

"Of course I do."

"Great then, this is a list of the last few people Ms. Myers has had contact with before her abduction, don't ask how I received it just get started contacting them. I can't really make any charming alibis for you right now but I trust you can do that well on your own. John and I have some friends to see" Sherlock walked to the door "Try not to be out too long. Good morning." Sherlock walked out. John nodded awkwardly then followed.

Casey walked into the sitting room and noted that John and Sherlock had returned from their day out. It seemed as if they had collected a lot of information in their time away, information in which she was certain Sherlock would not reveal to her. Although she doubt he would reveal anything to either one of them by his condition.

Sherlock stood still staring at the wall which had a seemly random assortment of photos taped to it. He would mutter to himself now and then, and Casey understood where he was. John informed Casey once that in moments like these, Sherlock was in what he called his mind palace, and probably had his filters set on mute. Casey did the only thing she could to cope with the odd traits of the consulting detective, nodded as if that were perfectly normal and carried on.

She made herself comfortable in Sherlock's abandoned chair, opened her notebook and began to scan her own findings. It was not long before she had questions, but Sherlock's filters were still apparently on mute and John was busy with his own questions, so Casey waited. With the stillness of the night and the quietness of three people thinking and waiting, Casey's eyes grew heavy. In moments she found the sleep that had been denied since her attack.

"Well I guess I'll go for takeout." John stood and stretched "You want anything?" Then he noted Casey's slumber and Sherlock's lack of response. "Well if you think of anything just text me." John said then slipped out of the flat.

Sherlock stared at the wall before him, it seemed as if everything was connected but not. He frowned in thought, "John, my phone, I need to contact Lestrade." Sherlock lifted a photo of Bridget's abandoned hotel room and examined it. He finally pulled himself away from the board and ran his hands over his face with a groan. In the corner of his eyes he spotted Casey.

She was curled up in his chair, asleep, and dressed in those dreadful university sweats. Sherlock noted the make of the sweats, they were well kept, too well kept to have survived her college years so they were new then. She probably brought them for sentimental reasons, sentiment, a piece of home in London maybe.

Sherlock knew he was deconstructing her but he could not stop himself. His eyes absently scanned the open page of her notebook, no real useful information there, he summarized as he walked closer lured by her pale neck and the red hairs at her nape. Casey's slim face seemed flawless if not for the remaining dark circles around her eyes and pursed lips, but that was a flaw Sherlock found that he very much enjoyed. The memory of kissing Casey stirred in his mind and tempted him to steal yet another one.

John entered the room and paused at the sight of Sherlock as he leered over the former prosecutor. He placed the takeaway down then cleared his throat to make his presence known, as if that would have some affect.

"My phone" Sherlock held out his hand without removing his gaze from Casey. "I asked you for it about fifteen minutes ago."

"Oh right, while I was out." John flustered then noted Sherlock's phone on the desk then placed it in his open hand. Sherlock pocketed the phone then continued to leer over Casey. "Might I ask what you're doing?"

"I am closely observing Ms. Novak." Sherlock kneeled before Casey and peered closer.

"Yes, yes and that's perfectly normal..." John shook his head. "Might I ask, why?"

"Because she's lovely." Sherlock said simply then stretched his hands forward to caress Casey's red hair.

"Maybe you shouldn't-" John tried to intervene but groaned when Sherlock ignored him and began to run his fingers through Casey's hair.

"I met a very irritating red head once, I assumed they were all as such, but every now and then there are exceptions." Sherlock lifted Casey's hair from her neck and wondered what gem would best compliment her fair skin. He placed a gentle kiss against her neck then stood. "John, I think I might have acquired a fascination."

"Quiet a fascination if I do say so."

"What am I to do about this? This can hardly be healthy." Sherlock scrubbed his face with his hands once more. Casey began to stir. "Ms. Novak you are a distraction! Please remove yourself from my thoughts." Sherlock snapped.

"Excuse me- what?" Casey snapped out of her daze.

"He's mental, don't mind him." John stood in-between the pair.

"I really try not to sometimes, but it's trying." Casey rose from the chair as Sherlock walked into the kitchen.

"I know, I know, but bear with him a little longer, one day, it'll all be worth it, hopefully." John said as Casey turned out of the sitting room.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock noted her retreat.

"I'm going to bed." Casey said with a slam of the door and John sighed.

"And I had such hopes..." John sigh.

Sherlock glanced at the closed door then his friend. "I need you to see Lestrade, he may have more information for you there."

"Aren't you going to come with me?" John asked.

"It's near midnight, I am not found of the idea of leaving Casey here alone at night."

"Right." John said then pulled on his coat. "I'll just stop by and head home then." John pulled on his coat and slipped out.

"My regards to Mary." Sherlock waved then turned his attention back to Casey and the shut door. Sherlock ran his hands over the smooth door before he knocked softly. "Casey?" He called and received no response. Sherlock sigh "I know you're awake, I can hear you breathing."

Casey frowned as she sat on the bed against the wall her legs pulled up to her chest. She felt childish, but Sherlock had just ruined one of the best sleeps she had encountered in a while, Casey could not help but pout at its loss.

"Come in." Casey sighed.

Sherlock entered and noted Casey's position with a nod "So this is how you not sleep at night." Sherlock walked over to the desk and leaned against the wall. "It must be painful."

"More or less." Casey sighed "I just like to feel the walls behind me." Casey tried to make this sound like a normal habit that had not occurred since her attack, but of course Sherlock saw though it.

"Forgive me for yelling at you, it was not your fault." Sherlock said.

"It's alright," Casey stood and yawned "I am little upset that you ruined one of the best rest I've had in a while, but I'll get over it..." Casey sighed "I didn't mean to fall asleep there, didn't even know I could, it just felt so comfortable, so safe. I was so content."

"John has that effect on most people... military doctor you know."

"Yes I suppose so." Casey gave a small smile.

"Come Casey let me cure my error." Sherlock patted the bench at the foot of the bed. Casey nodded then took a seat and Sherlock took one behind her. He placed his large hands on her small shoulders and gently he added pressure. When Casey sighed and her form began to relax, he began kneed.

"Is there anything you can't do?" Casey sighed as her form began to relax.

"I once solved a case with this very skill." Sherlock's low voice was near a purr against Casey's ear. She shuttered but her form heated at the contact. "I have many talents stored for such occasions" Casey's body gave a crack as more tension began to escape her form.

Sherlock stilled at the small sounds Casey released. He Was caught by the same intoxication that held him captive the previous morning. Casey's clean scent lured him to her. His nose fell against her neck as he breath in his addiction. He held her closer to himself as his nose trailed up her neck into her lush red hair. She always smelled of raspberries. Sherlock inhaled once more, raspberries and vanilla. The fragrance filed his system, he breath deeper as his hands pressed her closer into himself it was then he noticed Casey's still form. She was completely still in his arms and once again her breath was caught in her throat.

"Breathe Ms. Novak." Sherlock's low voice cooed. He smiled at Casey's exhale. It was nice to know that he was able to excite some reaction from Casey as well, but his desire was not sated. Sherlock rested his chin on her shoulder his hands on her waist. Her breath came out evenly now but hitched once more when he buried his face in her neck. "Casey..." Sherlock sighed against her form then turned her in his arms to gain her gaze. "I would rather like to kiss you again, may I?"

Casey turned her flushed cheeks from his gaze. "Are you going to yell at me for it later?" She asked with a smirk. Sherlock caught her chin.

"Maybe." He said simply. Casey's face broke into a laugh. Sherlock smiled back, then at her nod of assent, he captured her face in his large hands and kissed her. It was soft, rich, velvet, everything he had craved for since their first kiss. When she pulled away, he kissed her again and then again once more. Sherlock rested his forehead against Casey and smiled down at her as she smiled back at him.

"It appears I have been distracted once more..." Sherlock hummed, "But it is not always unpleasant."

"And you even managed not to yell at me this time." Casey said with a small smirk "We should probably stop though, before you change your mind."

Sherlock gave a low chuckle "But you are such a pleasant distraction Ms. Novak. How could I resist?" Casey flushed and looked away then Sherlock released her form his grasp.

Sherlock sighed as he stood. "You are welcome to join me in the sitting room again, if you find it more restful then your current sleeping arrangements."

"You sure I won't be a distraction?"

"No," Sherlock said honestly "But I will not wake you if you become one."

"How did I distract you anyway?" Casey stood and stretched her aching muscles "Did I snore, or something?" After receiving only silence in return she turned her gaze to Sherlock.

"You did not snore." Sherlock smiled at Casey then led her back into the sitting room. She curled up into his chair and he stood at his board once more. In the corner of his eyes, Sherlock's gaze lingered on Casey until she fell asleep then when he as certain she had, he kissed her temples, her cheeks and her lips and wished her the sweetest dreams.

Casey refreshed her make up as she entered the cafe. She had created a good alias it got her what she needed and finally landed a meeting that was actually worth something. Casey glanced behind her and noted the entrance of a very distinguished looking blond woman enter. She closed her makeup case. That was her target.

"You got something for me." Casey sat I front of the woman who instantly knew who she was.

The blond smirked then placed a velvet box on the table. When Casey reached for it she stopped her. "Uh ah, there is still the matter of payment." The blond said.

"You know that has already been taken care of." Casey bluffed "Ask for more and we'll flush the deal."

"Well I won't surrender this gem until I know you are going to come though this time." The blond's hand covered the box and Casey frowned.

"Fine," Casey said "Just let me see it first."

The woman lifted the lid of the case and revealed a sapphire spear shaped gem on a string of small pearls. "The original I was shown, had small gaps in-between the pearls, but I think this one will do nicely."

Casey scanned the necklace. It was not the information she had expected but she was glad she decided to ask for the woman to reveal it to her. She had gone through the list of possible accomplices, then had the phone dumped of one of the most promising one, this was the only contact which seemed worth digging into. All that to just find a jewel dealer.

"My client is no longer interested." Casey stood "Thank you."

"What, do you know how much it cost to duplicate that necklace? This is custom made exactly as requested." The blond stood as well and Casey reached for words.

"Obviously not." Casey surprised herself. "We requested an exact replica, and you were inept to follow. We did not request your, additions. This loss is on you." Casey pulled on her coat, turned up the collar then left the cafe in a rush.

It was not until Casey had put blocks behind her and finally climb in a cab that she allowed herself to catch her breath and think over what had happened. She reviewed the conversation in her head, the woman, her company, her rejection of the presented item then Casey groaned "I'm turning into Sherlock" She noted her upturned collars and patted them down. She thought back to the necklace, it was perfect, but who would want an exact replica of it and why? She could not get it out of her head, she kept seeing the gem being tossed in the air, or being swung playfully. Then it snapped.

The night before Bridget went on her trip, the necklace was there. Wrapped in plastic Casey grabbed it. "Oh secret admirer? Bridg, you never tell me anything anymore." Casey heard herself say followed by Bridget's halfhearted response, obviously too wrapped up in a phone call to pay Casey's comment much care. But Casey kept it she walked out of the room with it and then... Her mind went blank afterward but she pressed herself to remember, where did she put it... where did she go? Casey's eyes snapped open, of course, the only place she ever went.

Casey stepped out of the cab in front of her cousin's flat. She felt more than unease being at that place alone again, but she had to push that feeling aside. "I'll only be a moment" Casey told the cab then ran into the flat. She circled the sofa, scanned the countertops and climbed under it with no signs of the necklace. Then she pressed her hands in-between the seats felt the plastic and pulled. Casey held the clear bag over her head, it was dated and marked. It was evidence. She wondered what her cousin could have gotten into then the flat began to feel eerie as it had the night she was attacked. Casey pocketed the gem then ran to the cab. She redirected the cabby to and pulled out her phone to scan Bridget's last few articles.

Casey stumbled into Sherlock's flat gem in hand and found him sitting in his chair waiting for her. "It's not files, its physical evidence!" Casey said.

"Sapphire necklace. A birthday gift to a Mrs. Loire Goldman and the only thing missing from her cold dead corps found in an abandoned alley four months ago." Sherlock said and Casey faltered "It is also the only thing that would link Mr. Goldman and his alliance with the gang at his disposal, to the murder. He was there the night his wife was murdered, he planned the whole thing and his if DNA was found on the gem that would prove it. If Goldman is exposed for his connection with this group, then we will have found our leak in our defenses. Precious evidence indeed."

"You knew," Casey frowned "How long did you know?"

"Half the amount time it took you ti figure it out. But I knew you'd come though." Sherlock stood. John entered the sitting room.

"And my cousin?" Casey reminded him.

"We are off to fetch her now and expose the secret organization that Goldman hired to keep Ms. Myers shut by threatening her, burglarizing her home, attempting to abduct her cousin, mistaking you for her, and finally abducting her and holding her for ransom." Sherlock walked to the door "That about sums it up, we'll be back in a jiff, but don't wait up" Sherlock gave Casey a quick kissed then turned to exit.

"Wait, don't you need this?" Casey asked.

"Well, no" Sherlock smiled "After you rejected the woman and the cafe I was able to make quite a deal and acquired a custom made replica." Sherlock held up the rejected item then smiled. "Quite the bargain actually."

"You followed me?"

"Of course I did, matter of national security love." he kissed her again the beckoned for John to follow him "Ta," he said as Casey watched their retreat. "Maybe you were right about that affection thing John, I just kissed her twice and she's not as upset as I would have normally expected her to be." Sherlock said as they descended the stairs.

"Yes, but she can still hear you, so now she probably is." Casey heard John say before the door shut.

Casey leaned against the door frame and smiled to herself. Sherlock Holmes was amazing, she thought and noted her painfully dull her trip to London would have been had she not come upon him in that smoking bar. She closed and locked the door then placed the gem on the desk and prepared herself for a lovely evening of waiting.

Casey woke from her rest in Sherlock's chair and noted the sun setting. She glanced at her watch, Sherlock and John were gone longer than she had expected, but he did tell her not to wait up. She glanced at her phone turned it on and noticed she had multiple missed calls all from a blocked number. As she began to investigate it, her phone rang in her hands. Casey lifted the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

It was the same cryptic voice from the first call she had received. "Your mediator has failed. I know he won't give me what I want. So I won't give him what you need, or should I say, who"

"Where are you? Where is Bridget?" Casey glanced at the gem on the table.

"I'll tell you where she is, you can even come get her." The man said and Casey rushed to scribble the address down. "But if you don't give me what I want, if you show up with the cops, not just your cousin will suffer this time."

"How do I know you're telling the truth? How can I trust that you won't kill us both anyway?" Casey asked.

"You don't. Helpless isn't it? We just want to destroy the evidence Casey. You know how evidence works, if you don't have it, then the perp walks. I bet you've seen your fair share of that haven't you?"

Casey grit her teeth and as if seeing her reaction the man laughed then sobered.

"You can either cooperate, or let this be the last thing you hear from your cousin." there was an ear splitting scream which chilled Casey's bones then the call dropped.

**A/N: For some reason, this chapter was hard to write, let me know what you think, I may have to go over it eventually. **


End file.
